Friday 31 May 2019

Murray Gell-Mann on Reductionism (1)




[To follow: 'Murray Gell-Mann on Complexity'.]

[I also used the following short biographical introduction for my essay ‘Murray Gell-Mann on Complexity’.]

The physicist Murray Gell-Mann was born in 1929 and died in 2019.

In 1964 Gell-Mann postulated the existence of quarks. (The name was coined by Gell-Mann himself and it’s a reference to the novel Finnegans Wake, by James Joyce.) Quarks, antiquarks and gluons were seen to be the underlying elementary elements of neutrons and protons (as well as other hadrons). Gell-Mann was then awarded a Nobel Prize in Physics in 1969 for his contributions and discoveries in the classification of elementary particles at the level of the nucleus.

More relevantly to this piece. In 1984 Gell-Mann was one of several co-founders of the Santa Fe Institute— a research institute in New Mexico. Its job is to study complex systems and advance the cause of interdisciplinary studies of complexity theory.

Gell-Mann wrote a popular science book about physics and complexity science, The Quark and the Jaguar: Adventures in the Simple and the Complex, in 1994. Many of the quotes in this essay come from that book.

Reductionism

Reduction in science has been vitally important. It has sustained and advanced science since the 19th century — if not long before that.

The question is whether or not science is all about reduction. In simple terms. If reductionists (let’s not take that as a scare-word) say that science is “all about reduction”, then there’s a problem. If reductionists don’t say that, then there isn’t problem.

Many individual scientific reductions may be largely correct. Still (as we’ll see Murray Gell-Mann argue later), reduction itself could never be the whole story. (Even that can be deemed a generalisation!) First of all:

1) It depends on what exactly is being reduced.
2) It depends on what is being said about what’s being reduced.
3) It also depends on what a given phenomenon is being reduced to.

In the end, the reductionist’s claim may not be as monumental and all-encompassing as one first imagines. Indeed it’s often people’s gut reactions to some kinds of reductionism (rather than the claims of reductionists themselves) which overstretch things

That said, most people are happy with some — or even many — reductions in science. This is primarily the case because such reductions don’t seem to have any direct impact on people or society; either philosophically, morally/religiously or politically.

Murray Gell-Mann himself focuses in on this debate (in this case) not by talking about reductionism; but by stressing the interplay between “simplicity” and “complexity”. He wrote:

“It is important, in my opinion, for the name to connect with both simplicity and complexity. What is most exciting about our work is that it illuminates the chain of connections between, on the one hand, the simple underlying laws that govern the behavior of all matter in the universe and, on the other hand, the complex fabric that we see around us, exhibiting diversity, individuality, and evolution. The interplay between simplicity and complexity is the heart of our subject.”

Yet it’s hard to say if Gell-Mann endorses or castigates reductionism in the words above because — again — it entirely depends on how people define that word.

For a start, have many — or any — reductionists ever actually claimed that literally everything can be said and explained at the reduced level?

No; usually reductionists have simply said that most things can be reduced to another level. And that’s not the same thing.

In any case, reductions have been vitally important in many sciences (as already stated) and they’ve come up with many important results. Nonetheless, it doesn’t follow from this that all forms of reduction have no room for what’s often called “higher-level descriptions”. The philosopher Patricia Churchland (1943-), for example, says that

“research techniques reveal structural organisation at many strata: the biochemical level; then the level of the membrane, the single cell, and the circuit; and perhaps yet other levels, such as brain subsystems, brain systems, brain maps, and the whole central nervous system”.

Gell-Mann on Reduction & Reductionism

Where there’s reduction, there’s also that which is classed as “fundamental”. In other words, any given phenomenon (whatever it may be) can be reduced to its fundamental components (whatever they may be). Nonetheless, the word “fundamental” seems to be much more philosophical in timbre than merely saying that the physics explains (or even entails) some higher-level phenomena. It’s almost as if the word “fundamental” is normative, rather than descriptive.

Murray Gell-Mann himself gives an explicit characterisation of the word “fundamental” as it’s used in physics. He writes:

“I suggest that science A is more fundamental than science B when
1. The laws of science A encompass in principle the phenomena and the laws of science B.
2. The laws of science A are more general than those of science B (that is, those of science B are valid under more special conditions than are those of science A).”

The problem with the quote above are the two words “in principle”. They make all the difference. (They’re also used a few times in this piece; as well as by Gell-Mann himself.) In basic terms:

What we can know “in principle” = what we can know if we had complete (or total) access to all the information/data/evidence/etc.

That is:

i) B can fully accounted for (or explained) by A if A contains all the information/data/ evidence/etc. about B.
ii) If not, then there can be no complete or total account.

We can tackle the notion of such fundamentality in relation to what Gell-Mann said about quantum electrodynamics (QED).

Gell-Mann tell us that “QED meets the two criteria for being considered more fundamental than chemistry”. What’s more, the “laws of chemistry can in principle be derived from QED”. Thus:

i) If QED is “more fundamental than chemistry”,
ii) then it may follow that chemistry can be reduced to QED.

Gell-Mann goes further and says that

“of course the basic laws of physics are fundamental in the sense that all the other laws are built on them”.

However, he then qualifies this by saying

“that doesn’t mean you can derive all the other laws from the laws of physics, because you have to add in all the special features of the world that come from history and that underlie the other sciences”.

So, in a strong sense, reduction could be possible in the same sense that Laplace’s demon could predict the future state of the world from what he knows about the world today… at least in principle.

Then Gell-Mann qualifies the status of physics and chemistry (or at least parts thereof). Thus:

“Physics and chemistry stem from the fundamental laws, although even there, in the complicated branches of physics and chemistry, the formulation of the appropriate questions involves a great deal of special additional information about particular conditions that don’t obtain everywhere in the universe.”

Here again:

B stemming from the fundamental laws of A doesn’t mean that B is identical to A or vice versa.

Nor does it mean:

A tells us everything we need to know about B.

It simply means:

A underpins (or physically entails) B.

But the reality of A, and even its entailment of B, doesn’t mean that we only need A and can therefore reduce B entirely to A.

Additionally, even if A underpins — or entails— B, that doesn’t mean that B can’t have features, qualities or even laws which are (somewhat) independent of A. Or, as Gell-Mann put it, we need to factor in

“a great deal of special additional information about particular conditions that don’t obtain everywhere in the universe”.

All that gives B an important and relevant independence from A.

(We’ll see later than Gell-Mann’s words above can be applied to condensed matter physics.)

Good Reductionism

Gell-Mann himself explains what reductionism is. He writes:

“The process of explaining the higher level in terms of the lower is often called ‘reduction’.”

Of course if those words are taken literally, then there’s no explicit commitment to reduction — let alone to reductionism. (This is a little unfair because one can’t use the word to be defined in the definition itself.) After all,

i) If we’re “explaining the higher level in terms of the lower level”,
ii) then that doesn’t itself mean that the higher level is being reduced to the lower level.

And it certainly doesn’t imply a commitment to (hard) reductionism. That is, what’s being stated isn’t that the higher level can be reduced to lower level without remainder. Indeed, because of the word “explaining”, we can say that this is a partly epistemic enterprise, rather than a purely scientific or ontological one.

To put this as simply as possible:

Does scientific explanation necessary entail reduction?

Gell-Mann then goes on to tell us why reduction is a thoroughly scientific phenomenon:

“I know of no serious scientist who believes that there are special chemical forces that do not arise from underlying physical forces. Although some chemists might not like to put it this way, the upshot is that chemistry is in principle derivable from elementary particle physics.”

In fact we can go so far as to say that if some “special chemical forces” occurred which weren’t dependent on “underlying physical forces”, then we wouldn’t really be justified in calling them chemical forces at all. The fact that chemistry is derived from, dependent upon, or entailed by physics is built into the discipline of chemistry itself. Thus if anything chemical (as it were) runs free of the physics, then we can question its status as chemistry in the first place.

Now here comes a confession that most (or even all) physicists and chemists must admit to:

“In that sense, we are all reductionists, at least as far as chemistry and physics are concerned.”

Indeed it would be hard to see how things would work in science (or at least in physics) if reductions weren’t employed. Speaking Platonically, reduction seems to be the very essence of physics (if not also of some other sciences).

Elsewhere Gell-Mann again admits to being a reductionist. (In this case, in relation to the status of the “mental”.) He wrote:

“Here again, it must be a rare contemporary scientist who believes that there exist special ‘mental forces’ that are not biological, and ultimately physicochemical, in nature. Again, virtually all of us are, in this sense, reductionists.”

Gell-Mann was also well aware that he’d used the scare-word “reductionist”. So he continued:

“Yet in connection with such subjects as psychology (and sometimes biology), one hears the word ‘reductionist’ hurled as an epithet, even among scientists. (For example, the California Institute of Technology, where I have been a professor for almost forty years, is often derided as reductionist; in fact I may have used the term myself in deploring what l regard as certain shortcomings of our Institute.)”

Thus a scientist can fully accept the autonomy of all (or most) scientific disciplines and yet still be a reductionist. (There’s certainly no contradiction here.) Gell-Mann (sort of) puts this position when he says that

“human psychology — while no doubt derivable in principle from neurophysiology, the endocrinology of neurotransmitters, and so forth) — is also worth studying at its own level”.

In that simple case, reduction simply doesn’t serve much of a purpose. It could be done (at least “in principle”). However, that wouldn’t necessarily get us very far.

Bad Reductionism

Gell-Mann explicitly put the bad-reductionist position of his own faculty (i.e., the California Institute of Technology) at that time. He wrote:

“If a subject is considered too descriptive and phenomenological, not yet having reached the stage where mechanisms can be studied, our faculty regards it as insufficiently ‘scientific’.”

Gell-Mann’s way of distinguishing the non-scientific is very interesting and very particular. Firstly, he sees Real Science as being primarily about “mechanisms”. (That isn’t giving us much to go on.) As for non-science, it is “phenomenological”. Now that can be a reference to the “what it is like” aspects of the mind or brain (e.g., consciousness or subjectivity) or it could refer to the phenomenological accounts of literally any scientific study. (Such as an account of scientists’ “subjective” interactions with particle accelerators!)

Then Gell-Mann himself cites a specific case of bad reductionism:

“At Caltech, it is mostly the brain that is studied. The mind is neglected, and in some circles even the word is suspect (a friend of mine calls it the M-word). Yet very important psychological research was carried our some years ago at Caltech, particularly the celebrated work of the psychobiologist Roger Sperry and his associates on the mental correlates of the left and right hemispheres of die human brain.”

And elsewhere, Gell-Mann writes:

“In that sense, the founding of the Santa Fe Institute is part of a rebellion against the excesses of reductionism.”

Gell-Mann even hints at the possibility that some contemporary reductionists might have excluded Charles Darwin from their faculties! He wrote that

[i]f Caltech had existed with those same proclivities in Darwin’s time, would it have invited him to join the faculty?”.

Gell-Mann then went on to explain his reasons for his original question:

“After all, [Darwin] formulated his theory of evolution without many clues to the underlying processes. His writings indicate that if pressed to explain the mechanism of variation, he would probably have opted for something like the incorrect Lamarckian idea.”

So, with reference to the earlier quote from Gell-Mann (in which he said that certain disciplines have “not yet reached the stage where mechanisms can be studied”), can we say that Darwin himself wasn’t concerned with mechanisms? Does that also mean that Darwin’s approach was (as Gell-Mann put it) “phenomenological” and purely “descriptive”? Yet Darwin’s approach was indeed very theoretical. In addition, even though Darwin hadn’t the science to explain the underlying mechanisms, that didn’t mean that he was entirely unconcerned with mechanisms.

Paul Dirac’s Classic Example of Reduction

In one respect Paul Dirac (1902–1984) put the quintessential (scientific) reductionist position when he stated that his relativistic quantum-mechanical equation for the electron (of 1928) “explained most of physics and the whole of chemistry”. So here we have a kind of meta-reduction in that the whole of physics is being reduced to a yet more fundamental physics.

Of course the interpretation of what Dirac said is entirely dependent on what the word “explained” means. In one sense, what Dirac said was simply a statement of the facts. (Or, at the least, the facts as he saw them.) That is, he presciently realised that

[a] great many of the phenomena of chemistry are governed largely by the behavior of the electrons as they interact with the nuclei and with one another through electromagnetic effects”.

In that limited sense, then, Dirac was right. However, if we take Dirac to have meant that literally everything about chemistry could by “explained” by his equation (or by physics generally), then he certainly would have been wrong. So it all depends on both what Dirac claimed and what can be deduced from what he claimed. (What’s true of Dirac is also true of other “reductionists”.)

Gell-Mann agreed with Dirac’s grand claim. He wrote:

“QED [quantum electrodynamics] does explain, in principle, a huge amount of chemistry. It is rigorously applicable to those problems in which the heavy nuclei can be approximated as fixed point particles carrying an electric charge.”

Indeed Gell-Mann went further than this. He continued:

“In principle, a theoretical physicist using QED can calculate the behavior of any chemical system in which the detailed internal structure of atomic nuclei is not important.”

Gell-Mann was justifying and explaining some of the (as it were) science of reduction(ism) above. He cited why it is, precisely, that physics can explain “the behaviour of any chemical system”. So this isn’t normative or methodological reductionism: it’s descriptive.

Nonetheless, and surprising as it may seem (to the layperson at least), even condensed matter physics is problematic from the standpoint of reductionism and reduction (as well as emergence). Indeed one definition of the words “condensed matter physics” gives the game away. It states that this field of physics “deals with the macroscopic and microscopic physical properties of matter”. Thus the very fact that macroscopic physical properties are part of the story shows us that condensed matter physics can’t all be about the reduction of macroscopic properties (or “higher levels”) to microscopic properties (or “lower levels”).

As for Gell-Mann, he told us that condensed matter physics “is concerned with systems such as crystals, glasses, and liquids, or superconductors and semiconductors”. More relevantly, condensed matter physics is a

“very special subject, applicable only under the conditions (such as low enough temperature) that permit the existence of the structures that it studies”.

In addition:

“Only when those conditions are specified is condensed matter physics derivable, even in principle, from elementary particle physics.”

Thus, if I’m reading Gell-Mann correctly, condensed matter physics is simply not reducible to “elementary particle physics”.

And since we’re on the subject of condensed matter physics, we must also raise the controversial issue of emergence.

In the case of condensed matter physics again, it can be said that “complex assemblies of particles behave in ways dramatically different from their individual constituents”. One specific example of this is that a range of phenomena related to high-temperature superconductivity are poorly understood; yet the physics of electrons, etc. is understood very well.

Gell-Mann then seemed to strike a middle-way between strong and weak emergence in the following quote. Here’s the hint at strong emergence:

[I]t’s essential to study biology at its own level, and likewise psychology, the social sciences, history, and so forth, because at each level you identify appropriate laws that apply at that level.”

Then Gell-Mann also hinted at weak emergence:

“Even though in principle those laws can be derived from the level below plus a lot of additional information, the reasonable strategy is to build staircases between levels both from the bottom up (with explanation in terms of mechanisms) and from the top down (with the discovery of important empirical laws). All of these ideas belong to what I call the doctrine of ‘emergence’.”

In conclusion, Gell-Mann wrote:

“Here, much more than in the case of nuclear physics, condensed matter physics, or chemistry, one can see a huge difference between the kind of reduction to the fundamental laws of physics that is possible in principle and the trivial kind that the word ‘reduction’ might call up in the mind of a naive reader. The science of biology is very much more complex than fundamental physics because so many of the regularities of terrestrial biology arise from chance events as well as from the fundamental laws.”

This leads onto Gell-Mann’s interest in complexity; which is the subject of my essay ‘Murray Gell-Mann on Complexity’.

[I can be found on Twitter here.]

Tuesday 21 May 2019

Rudy Rucker and David Chalmers: Rocks Do and Don't Have Minds


David Chalmers: Rocks Don't have Minds

It's no good a panpsychist saying that

"panpsychism holds that every basic entity - usually understood as a physical entity—is also a mind"

unless we have a definition of the word 'mind'. Until then, the panpsychist may as well say that

panpsychism holds that every basic entity is also a flabbergist.

Thus it's very nice that David Chalmers explicitly states that he doesn't believe that (for example) rocks are conscious or have minds. At least that puts a lot of fluff out of the way. And that's why Chalmers has used the technical term “proto-experience”.

So is it that rocks don't have experiences/consciousness or that they don't have minds? That's a big difference. Let Chalmers speak for himself:

I do not think it is strictly accurate to say that rocks (for example) have experiences.”

Chalmers is very careful (as usual) with his words. However, in the process of being careful, he's also not very convincing. Surely most people wouldn't use a diplomatic phrase such as [it is not] “strictly accurate to say that rocks have experiences”. Indeed virtually no philosopher would put it that way either. Even according to Chalmers' own “panprotopsychism” it can be said that Chalmers needn't have put it quite so diplomatically (or nicely).

Then Chalmers brings in “possibility” - which he often does. He writes:

But I hope to have said enough to show that we ought to take the possibility of some sort of panpsychism seriously: there seem to be no knockdown arguments against the view, and there are various positive reasons why one might embrace it.”

Of course once possibility has been given house room, then almost anything goes (which is itself a modal statement). And it's precisely because Chalmers gives so much time to possibilities than he argues for (philosophical) zombies, “naturalistic dualism” and, here, panpsychism. Indeed because we're dealing with possibilities, it's the case that Chalmers is perfectly correct to argue that there “seem to be no known knockdown arguments" against panpsychism... or zombies... or naturalistic dualism. 

Still, many philosophers would say: So what! That is, are possibilities alone enough to sustain a broad philosophical position? One can give house room to a possibility and yet still reject its actuality or even its relevant probability. And aren't infinite things possible before breakfast? Should we incorporate all of them into our philosophies?

Still, it's not all about possibilities. Chalmers, after all, finishes off by saying that “there are various positive reasons why one might embrace” panpsychism... naturalistic dualism... zombies. This implies (or at least Chalmers' wording does) that the possibility of panpsychism is a negative phenomenon (or case); whereas the other reasons (which he “embrace[s]”) are “positive”.

Lets get back to Chalmers diplomatic phrase. So what's the difference between these two statements? -

I do not think it is strictly accurate to say that rocks (for example) have experiences...”

and

rocks may have experiences associated with them...”

What does rocks “hav[ing] experiences associated with them” so much as mean? And who (or what) associates experiences with rocks? Of course panpsychists associate experiences with rocks. But Who else does?

After these statements, Chalmers more or less admits that he hasn't got much more than that to offer us. He firstly says that “[p]ersonally, I am much more confident of naturalistic dualism than I am of panpsychism”. And then he finishes off by saying (to repeat):

The latter issue seems to be very much open. But I hope to have said enough to show that we ought to take the possibility of some sort of panpsychism seriously: there seem to be no knockdown arguments against the view, and there are various positive reasons why one might embrace it.”

To be fair, these words were written in 1997 - so perhaps Chalmers does now believe that he has knockdown arguments for panpsychism... zombies... or naturalistic dualism. Then again, he probably believes that there are no knockdown arguments in these - or in any other - areas of philosophy.

Whatever the possibilities are, David Chalmers' position is still radically at odds with Rudy Rucker's.

Rudy Rucker: Rocks Have Minds

Rudy Rucker taught mathematics at the State University of New York at Geneseo from 1972 to 1978. He then taught maths at the Ruprecht Karl University of Heidelberg from 1978 to 1980. After that, in 1986, Rucker became a computer science professor at San José State University. (He retired from that job in 2004.) Rucker has also written non-fiction books on mathematics and physics; such as Geometry, Relativity and the Fourth Dimension and Infinity and the Mind. More relevantly to panpsychism and rocks, he also wrote The Lifebox, the Seashell, and the Soul.

In his 'Mind is a universally distributed quality' (from What is Your Dangerous Idea?), Rudy Rucker says that “[e]ach object has a mind”. This means (to him) that “[s]tars, hills, chairs, rocks, scraps of paper, flakes of skin, molecules” all have minds.

Rucker isn't only saying that all these objects have “experiences” (or embody what philosophers call “phenomenal properties”). And he certainly isn't saying that they only embody “protoexperience” or “panprotoexperience”. (As David Chalmers has it.) No; Rucker uses the word “mind”; as well as the words “experiences” and “sensations”.

So it must now be said that when (some) philosophers (such as Chalmers himself) use the term “experience” or “phenomenal properties”, they aren't necessarily also talking about minds. Nonetheless, it can of course now be argued that experiences and phenomenal properties must surely come attached to (as it were) minds.

So how does Rucker define “mind”?

If Rucker defines the word “mind” so that it only includes what he calls “inner experiences” and “sensations”, then his use of that word would be - by his own definition - correct.

Perhaps experience does come along with mind in the sense that it's hard to think of a mindless experience. However, that may not quite be the case when it comes to phenomenal properties because, prima facie, one can conceive (a word often used when philosophers like Chalmers modalise about these issues) of them as belonging to non-minds; or to, yes, Rudy Rucker's rocks, scraps of paper or flakes of skin.

Sunday 19 May 2019

Slavoj Žižek's Philosophy of Science: Quantum Obscurantists and Ideology




To tackle first things first. The title of this piece may be a little misleading. (Nonetheless, I decided not to change it.) It's not about the obscurantism and ideology of Slavoj Žižek's philosophy of science. It's about Žižek's position on the obscurantism and ideology he himself has found in modern science. Having said that, the words “philosophy of science” are used slightly ironically simply because I doubt that Žižek would be that keen on having his ideas classed under that title.

In any case, Žižek places his cards firmly on the table when it comes to the people he calls “obscurantists”. (Obscurantism is something Žižek has himself often been accused of.) He writes:

To avoid any misunderstanding: as an old-fashioned dialectical materialist, I am opposed as ferociously as possible to these obscurantist appropriations of quantum physics and astronomy.”

Žižek is then even more explicit when he warns us about the

New Age obscurantists appropriations of today's 'hard' sciences which, in order to legitimize their position, invoke the authority of science itself”.

It can now be added that we all know about the Flat Earthers, Creationists, Intelligent Designers, etc. whose books are replete with mathematical equations, technical terms from physics, graphs, stats, etc. In other words, we need to be careful when people drop scientific technical terms into their discourse. Or, alternatively, we need to be careful when such people include only certain (sexy) aspects of science; though who then also ignore (or reject) what could very well be far more scientifically important (or relevant) when it comes to the legitimacy of their non-scientific (or strictly philosophical) claims.

So although Žižek is both a Continental philosopher (well, he's Slovenian) and a Marxist, some might have assumed that he would have some sympathy for obscurantism or the “anti-science movement”. However, Žižek would say that it's precisely because he's a Marxist that he hasn't got any sympathy at all for these things. Indeed Žižek makes that clear in the quote above when he uses the phrase “an an old-fashioned dialectical materialist”. In any case, Žižek certainly has a problem with postmodernism and deconstruction (or post-structuralism) and their quietism and conformity vis-à-vis the “capitalist status quo”.

In addition, Žižek is a huge fan of the French psychoanalyst and psychiatrist Jacques Lacan. He tells us that

for [Lacan], modern science is absolutely not one of the 'narratives' comparable in principle to other modes of 'cognitive mapping' - modern science touches the Real in a way that is totally absent from premodern discourses”.

One wonders what the Austrian-American analytic philosopher, Paul Feyeraband, would have thought about Žižek's and Lacan's words when he put voodoo and astrology in (roughly) the same category as science.

In his book,The Trouble With Physics, the physicist Lee Smolin (when discussing this issue with Feyerabend himself) wrote:

Was it because science has a method? So do witch doctors. Perhaps the difference, I ventured, is that science uses math. And so does astrology, [Feyerabend] responded, and he would have explained the various computational systems used by astrologers, if we had let him... Newton had spent more time on alchemy than on physics. Did we think we were better scientists than Kepler or Newton?”

To return to Žižek. Žižek has no problem with science or physics, as Paul Feyerabend himself did. Indeed he has said (in the New Scientist) that he has “a very naive Enlightenment fascination with it” and that he has “total admiration for science”.

Nonetheless, Žižek does have a problem with the attempt by certain scientists (or their supporters) to create some kind of (as Žižek himself puts it) “hegemony”. (I intend to cover this in another piece.) And since I mentioned Feyeraband, perhaps the Austrian-American philosopher (who was also an anarchist) put voodoo and astrology in the same bracket as modern science precisely because he didn't like modern science's so-called “hegemonic tendencies”.

The Paradoxes of Quantum Mechanics?

Žižek's actual positions on quantum mechanics are almost entirely orthodox.

For example, take the quantum leap (as it were) from the “scientific discoveries” of quantum mechanics to expressing those discoveries in what Žižek calls “everyday language”. Žižek himself says that “[a]ll these topics are widely discussed in the literature on quantum physics”. This is how Žižek puts it:

A further impasse concerns the necessity somehow to relate scientific discoveries to everyday language, to translate them into it: it can be argued that problems emerge only when we try to translate the results of quantum physics back into our common-sense notions of reality - but is it possible to resist this temptation?”

Of course the philosophical point comes at the end of the passage above: viz., “is it possible to resist this temptation?”. Richard Feynman couldn't resist this temptation. And that's why he was led to say (as quoted by Žižek) that “nobody really understands quantum physics”. In other words, that lack of understanding only occurs when we “relate scientific discoveries to everyday language”. Or, in in Žižek's own words (which square well with Feynman's), that lack of understanding only occurs when we realise that

one can no longer translate [quantum physic's] mathematical-theoretical edifice into the terms of our everyday lifeworld notions of reality”.

Again, Žižek is hardly being original when he makes these points. Indeed he says that himself.

In any case, it's certainly the true that Žižek's “obscurantists” fixate on the paradoxes of quantum mechanics. It can even be argued that these ostensible paradoxes are, for them, the whole point.

Yet Žižek is also (partly) correct to argue that

the moment one wants to provide an ontological account of quantum physics (what notion of reality fits its results), paradoxes emerge which undermine standard common-sense scientistic objectivism”.

So the paradoxes are there... or are they? Well, they are if we move from the quantum scale to the large scale. And that leap is at least partly responsible for the paradoxes. To sum this up:

i) If we stick with the theory and mathematics (which most of us can't do),
ii) and don't care about “interpretation”,
iii) then there would be no paradoxes.

And that's why Žižek is also correct to say that

this fact is constantly emphasized by scientists themselves, who oscillate between the simple suspension of the ontological question (quantum physics functions, so do not try to understand it, just do the calculations . . .) and different ways out of the deadlock”.

That is:

i) If you “just do the calculations”,
  1. then no paradoxes will emerge. Or:
i) If you want to ask “the ontological question”,
ii) then paradoxes necessarily emerge.

In that former case, there simply is no “deadlock” to get out of.

However, if you do have a need for ontology, then that deadlock can be broken. And Žižek himself cites various candidates for breaking this deadlock:

[] Copenhagen orthodoxy, the Many Worlds Interpretation, some version of the 'hidden variable' theory which would save the notion of one unique objective reality, like the one proposed by David Bohm, but which none the less involves paradoxes of its own, like the notion of causality which runs backwards in time [].”

These are the interpretations that the average quantum mechanist hardly ever thinks about. And that's because, as one physicist once puts it, the “average quantum mechanist is no more philosophical than the average car mechanic”.

So, as a philosopher, it's no surprise that Žižek does ask the following question:

[C]an we, in fact, simply renounce the ontological question and limit ourselves to the mere functioning of the scientific apparatus, its calculations and measurements?”

That all depends on what Žižek means by the word “we”. Quantum mechanists can indeed “simply renounce the ontological question”. Philosophers can't. Having said that, there have also been plenty of physicists who've said that quantum mechanists can't – or shouldn't – entirely ignore the ontological question!

Is Quantum Mechanics Postmodern?

Slavoj Žižek makes the interesting point that it wasn't just Cultural Studies (to use his own example), postmodernism or deconstruction which “brought into question” the nature of “reality” (in scare quotes). No, modern physics itself was guilty of “shattering of the traditional naive-realist epistemological edifice”. Indeed Niels Bohr, for one, was virtually explicit about this way back in the 1920s – some 90 years ago. That was decades before Cultural Studies, deconstruction and postmodernism. Bohr wrote:

There is no quantum world. There is only an abstract quantum physical description. It is wrong to think that the task of physics is to find out how nature is. Physics concerns what we can say about nature.”

More relevantly, it was the “sciences themselves”, according to Žižek, which opened up a gap in which obscurantist shoots were able to grow. It's of course also true that the obscurantists (whoever Žižek has in mind) very rarely had any training in physics. Nonetheless, they were (in at least certain respects) saying similar things - if in very different ways! And one way which was very different, and which Žižek and the physicists themselves picked up on, was the application of what's true of the quantum scale to the everyday scale – precisely the applications which appeal to Žižek's obscurantists.

(There are of course questions as to exactly where Heisenburg cuts” can be made or even whether they can be made at all. However, I don't believe that this has much to do with the applications the obscurantists make of quantum mechanics to such things as “quantum healing”, “quantum love”, “quantum society”, “quantum baked beans” and “quantum t-shirts”.)

David Bohm & Co.

Now we've moved from Copenhagenist “subjectivism”, we can tackle New Ageist David Bohm & Co.

Žižek argues that New Ageism (or at least certain parts of it) grew out of science and the words of scientists themselves. Žižek is at least partly correct on this. He writes:

[O]ne should note that despite the salient distinction between science and ideology, obscurantist New Age ideology is an immanent outgrowth of modern science itself - from David Bohm to Fritjof Capra, examples abound of different versions of 'dancing Wu Li masters', teaching us about the Tao of physics, the 'end of the Cartesian paradigm', the significance of the anthropic principle and the holistic approach, and so on.”

Even though Žižek over-eggs his theme above, it was David Bohm himself who explicitly set various New Age cats among the “hard science” pigeons. As the science writer Philip Ball put it:

[David Bohm believed that] Thought exists in the cosmos as a holistic entity akin to quantum potential, which it would, [Bohm] said, be 'wrong and misleading to break... up into my thought, your thought'. This quasi-mystical view of reality has made Bohm popular with the New Age movement...”

On a pedantic note. Žižek talks about “modern science” and its impact on New Age obscurantism and then mentions David Bohm and Fritjof Capra. This is slightly problematic because Bohm's first important publication (at least in respect to the issues covered here) dates form 1951 and he didn't become well-known until the 1960s and later. (Fritjof Capra wasn't even born until 1939.) That's some 40 years after the early work of the Copenhagenists. So, in in other words, the New Age accouterments weren't there from the beginnings of quantum mechanics, even if “subjectivism” was.

In any case, having made these historical and philosophical points, Žižek then makes his political point – which he no doubt sees as being more important. That point being that instead of “pouring our scorn on to poor old Cultural Studies”, we should acknowledge the source of those ideas. Žižek believes that

it would be much more productive to approach anew the classic topic of the precise epistemological and ontological implications of the shifts in 'hard' sciences themselves”.

But that would be extremely problematic because it is these obscurantists themselves who are very happy to trace their ideas back to the Copenhagenists of the 1920s and after. This means, in addition, that they have no problem in using the jargon and even the mathematics of the Copenhagenists for purposes of obscurantism.

Science and New Age Ideology

One may think that it's surprising that Žižek, as a Marxist, does appear to acknowledge a difference between science and ideology. As before, Žižek will probably argue that (good/proper) Marxists have always made such a distinction.

For example, in one place Žižek tells us that “one should note” the “salient distinction between science and ideology”. More explicitly, he writes:

It is therefore crucial to distinguish between science itself and its inherent ideologization...”

There's a problem with the passage above. Žižek does, after all, use the word “inherent” before the word “ideologization”. That surely means that ideologization is, well, inherent in science. (“Inherent” = “existing in something as a permanent, essential, or characteristic attribute”.) If that's the case, then how can Žižek also argue that it's “crucial to distinguish between science itself and its inherent ideologization” - if science's ideologization is inherent? Unless Žižek is saying that non-ideological science is something that scientists should strive for. That it is, therefore, an ideal. But that still doesn't stop science, according to Žižek's own logic, from being inherently ideological.

In any case, Žižek delves deeper into these ideologisations of science when he mentions New Age science and philosophy. He writes:

The often present New Age inscription in which the shift in paradigm is interpreted as the outgrowing of the Cartesian mechanic-materialist paradigm towards a new holistic approach bringing us back to the wisdom of ancient Oriental thought (the Tao of physics, etc.)...”

The problem with the passage above is that it can be read as saying that “ideologism” didn't begin until New Age holism. Surely, as a Marxist, Žižek can't believe that.

So perhaps the upshot of Žižek's position is that what he calls “hard science” is not inherently/intrinsically ideological. However, it can easily be made to be so. (Indeed it often is made so.) Yet that still doesn't make sense of Žižek's use of the words “inherent ideologization”.

It doesn't help, either, when elsewhere Žižek seems to argue that science must be political. (Surely Marxists have always believed that.) But, here again, the distinction which Žižek himself makes between “science itself” and its “ideologization” can be made.

Yes; science itself is not political. However, Marxists like Žižek believe that scientists should be aware of the political import and consequences of their science. Indeed Žižek is explicit about the need for science or scientists to be political when he says that physicists like Stephen Hawking

silently pass over the burning questions which actually occupy centre stage in current politico-ideological debates”.

That must surely mean that it's not the ideologisation of science per se that concerns Žižek: it's the wrong kind of ideologisation of science.

Žižek's Examples of Scientific Ideology

Žižek goes on to offer us some explicit examples of the wrong kind of ideological science.

Firstly, Žižek tells us of science's “subtle transformation into a new holistic, etc., 'paradigm'”. He then gives two examples: “complementarity” and the “anthropic principle”. He says of these examples that they're “doubly inscribed, functioning as scientific and ideological terms”. In fact, because the Third Culture propagates these aspects of science, it is, Žižek argues, therefore “infested with ideology”.

Of course it now needs to be explained exactly why such things as the anthropic principle, holism and complementarity are “ideological”, rather than purely scientific.

Žižek seems to be right: his examples do go beyond science. Or, at the least, they are philosophical rather than strictly scientific. At worst, they are also ideological.

For example, the focus on humanity (or human beings) when it comes to the Anthropic Principle is “ideological”. And if “Cartesianism” was/is ideological, then, by definition, anti-Cartesian “holism” must be ideological too.

It's certainly odd that certain philosophers and scientists have overstressed “the Cartesian paradigm” and how it was broken by New Ageists and what Žižek's obscurantists. And if Cartesianism isn't it overstressed when it comes to science itself, then it certainly has been in philosophy.

So is Cartesianism really that all-encompassing? In addition, there were various kinds of “holism” dating back to the ancient Greeks. (Conformational) holism can also be found in the work of W.V.O Quine (a hardcore naturalist and empiricist) in the mid-20th century. One could even argue that a certain degree of holism has always been part of the scientific picture.

As for Žižek's own stance, he gives another example of ideological science. He cites “the jump from genes to memes”. This, according to Žižek, is an example of

an all-too-fast metaphorical transposition of certain biological-evolutionist concepts to the study of the history of human civilization”.

The Context of Discovery

In analytic philosophy of science, an important distinction is made between the “context of discovery” and the “context of justification”. Žižek himself comments on that “distinction”. However, he does so with different technical terms and he also puts things differently (as one would expect).

Firstly Žižek tells us that the “standard distinction” is between

the social or psychological conditions of a scientific invention and its objective truth-value”.

Žižek has a problem with this all-too-neat division. He writes:

The least one can say about it is that the very distinction between the (empirical, contingent sociopsychological) genesis of a certain scientific formation and its objective truth-value, independent of the conditions of this genesis, already presupposes a set of distinctions (between genesis and truth-value, etc.) which are by no means self-evident.”

Let's firstly comment on certain terms which Žižek uses and which, it can be argued, needlessly complicate matters. Take the words “objective truth-value”. Surely one can make a distinction between the context of discovery (or Žižek's “genesis”) and the context of justification and still not have a strong (or even any) commitment to objective truth-values. For one, what does “objective” mean in this context?

The words “scientific invention” also (to use Žižek's own words) “presuppose[] a set of distinctions” which Žižek himself is making. In this case, that scientific theories (or even experimental findings) are little/nothing more than inventions. Thus “invention” is a very loaded term. And later Žižek seems to use a synonym of “scientific invention” when he refers to “scientific formation”. Nonetheless, Žižek is on strong ground here (or at least on ground that's away from Continental philosophy) because some quantum theorists (who are also physicists) also stress this.

Take “quantum Bayesianism” (Qbism) and the position of Chrisopher Fuchs. He believes that “quantum states represent observers' personal information, expectations and degrees of belief”. More relevantly, Fuchs believes that this

allows one to see all quantum measurements events as little 'moments of creation', rather than as revealing anything pre-existent”.

Now would could be more New Age than scientific “moments of creation”?