How was quantum physics discovered?

 Quantum physics began with perceived inadequacies in classical theory, the basis of all of physics up until the late nineteenth century. One of those problems is the stability of matter. (Why do solid objects retain their shapes when banged?) Another problem was equilibrium of matter with radiation at some constant temperature. If you look at those issues in classical physics, it seems that no such stability and no equilibrium is possible.

So what exactly is quantum physics?

 It began as the theory of the very small. So quantum physics is about molecules, atoms, elementary particles, like electrons and protons, and whatever they are made out of – quarks, perhaps superstrings. But the equations are completely different from the equations of classical physics. Moreover, you can’t just contain the difference to the micro world. It really gets out and contaminates large molecules; it contaminates collections of large molecules and then biological organisms and ordinary objects and then the planet and then the universe as a whole. This in itself isn’t surprising. In physics, when we have a new theory, we push it to its limits. If you think of what Newton did with his theory of gravity, he didn’t stop with the motions of the planets around the star but extended it to include every motion of every atom in the entire universe. That was essential to all the later discoveries. But when you try to do that with quantum theory you end up with something that seems like nonsense.

There is a famous experiment in quantum physics called Schrödinger’s cat, which finds that a cat can be simultaneously both dead and alive. How is this possible?

That is an example of what I mean. It seems like nonsense. In the face of this, what seems to follow from the equations, it was just declared that something else takes over when you have macroscopic things involved, and especially in ‘experiments’. But many physicists found this unacceptable. They think the equations have to be applied whether or not something is an experiment, or involves macroscopically many particles, but they are modified equations – they are not the usual ones. Or else you have to have extra equations, for new variables – either way, that dictate one or other of the dead cat or live cat. There is another solution, discovered by an American PhD student, Hugh Everett. At the time the idea was too radical, but nowadays, with other theories in physics calling for similar ideas, it has to be t aken more seriously. E verett’s idea was that you’ve got this superposition of the cat alive and the cat dead which extends in time (as the equations evolve in time) to a superposition of the experimenter looking at the cat dead and another experimenter looking at the cat alive, and the equations continue to evolve and then give you a collection of colleagues of the experimenter all agreeing that the cat is dead, superposed with a collection of colleagues all agreeing with one another that the cat is alive, so the fact that you’ve got the superposition cannot be observed, and this keeps going until in the end it extends to the entire universe. This is the ‘manyworlds’ theory. It is an extremely lively branch of quantum foundations. Some of the most interesting questions on this interpretation concern probability and its relationship to decision theory.

Do any of the discoveries made in quantum physics have any application to the ‘real world’?

Oh my gosh! It has transformed almost all the technology you use in everyday life: mobile phones, laptops, media, medical instrumentation, and almost anything else that uses lasers.

Simon Saunders is a Professor of Philosophy of Physics and Fellow Linacre College, Oxford

Why. Can’t. We. Win. Eurovision? We’ve tried everything: Scooch’s airborne masterpiece gave us cheese; that guy who lost X-factor five years ago tried disco; Teenage Life gave us, well, something. Even deploying the accomplished and ancient Mr Humperdink hasn’t saved us. Yet again we’ve been forced to watch painfully as those potential points slip through our fingers like fine Azerbaijani sand; another annual reminder of our worryingly strained relationship with Europe.

Surely the standard of our entrants cannot be faulted: a man who is tired of Blue is most definitely tired of life. And, whilst Estonian novelty acts may win some votes with their attempts to drown us all in a sea of silly hats and backing beats that sound like they came from a child’s Casio keyboard, generic pop songs similar to our own usual efforts take home the trophy.

 Clearly the reason for our perpetual embarrassment is that nobody likes us. And with good reason: our nation of greasy beef-eating tea-fetishists has spent the fifteen years since our last win grossly and deliberately out of step with our European neighbours. Over Euro entry, over Iraq, over Cameron’s veto: our belligerence knows no bounds. Such was the fallout from the veto alone that German MEP Alexander Lambsdorff moaned it had always been ‘a mistake to let the British into the EU’. So that’s one vote lost for Engelbert then.

 The lack of solidarity with Europe is ingrained in our national psyche. For all we might ridicule Americans’ lack of universal healthcare and inability to solve problems without shooting them, we shamelessly ape their culture and their politics like an uncool younger brother. Our leaders are far keener to stress the ‘special relationship’ and sidle up to the big and shiny ‘land of the free’ than accept our position as one medium-sized economy amongst equals in Europe. To do so would be to ditch British exceptionalism, to shake off the imperial delusions of grandeur. But our immature non-compliance with the EU loses us more than just singing contests. With a return to recession and the emergent need for a coordinated rolling back of austerity, the ability to organise and cooperate with our invaluable European trading partners has become ever more pressing.

 If there was one lesson to take home from the economic crisis, it was the vital importance of international agreement over fiscal policy. If we are to return to growth and help end the Euro crisis for the benefit of all, then Cameron must put his gut instincts to one side and work to end this silly antagonism between ourselves and our neighbours. And who knows, perhaps then Europe’s leading musical talent might actually make it over to Britain some day.

Facts of the matter

Baroness Warsi, long treated with contempt by fellow Tories, has come under fresh criticism this week for her expenses, only one week after the embarrassing revelation that she failed to declare rental income to the Lords. Between October 2007 and March 2008, Warsi claimed £12,000 for 74 nights spent in a party member’s property in Acton, West London. The trouble is, the landlord, Dr Moustafa, claims he let Warsi use the bedsit for free.

Yet Cameron will not find it as easy to let go of Warsi as he did Liam Fox or Jeremy Hunt, assuming the Culture Minister falls on his sword in light of the Leveson Inquiry. The Baroness, ennobled in 2007 after failing to win her parliamentary election in 2005, embodies everything the Tories are not: ethnically diverse, Northern, working-class, urban and female. Her appointment as Conservative Chair and minister without portfolio at the tender age of 39 was part of Cameron’s attempt to detoxify the Tory brand. Her fate will ultimately not be dictated by the tabloids, or even her perceived value as a minority, but by the potency of the allegations and whether in time they will prove accurate.

Laugh-a-minute

Andrew Pierce of the Daily Mail smells blood. His article screams ‘A Muslim working-class mum hand-picked for Cameron’s A-list…But is Sayeeda Warsi up to the job?’ It somewhat tarnishes the Mail’s enlightened attitude towards women in government. The article implies she was promoted because she ‘symbolised the public face of a Conservative Party modernised and reformed by David Cameron’, seething at the idea that any unembarrassed social equity should belong in the Tory Party. He attacks her as ‘weak’ and the beneficiary of tokenism. As the only gay commentator on the Mail, is Pierce by his own logic not subject to the same charge? Wherever the allegations now lead, she should be sacked. After all, she isn’t a ‘Tebbit-style heavy hitter’, reflecting on the affable and measured minister of ‘Get on yer bike’ fame.

Voice of reason

Michael White of the Guardian questions the real motives behind the attacks. The rental income was declared to the Cabinet Office and to the taxpayer, so it seems credible that the failure to declare it to the Lords was an oversight. But as the long postponed Cabinet reshuffle approaches, backbench MPs, who increasingly see her as ‘lightweight’, are piling on pressure to replace her with a more ‘robust’ party figure (for ‘robust’ read ‘white, male, Home Counties’). If Cameron wishes to throw his backbenchers some red meat, then Sayeeda Warsi is surely a likely sacrifice, with these allegations sealing her fate. Would that represent a backwards step for diversity in the upper echelons of government? Perhaps, but as he points out, Priti Patel, a fiery Hindu backbencher, ticks every box that Warsi does, without the limpness that local Tories despise in Warsi.

69%. That’s the proportion of respondents who now agree that Britain would be ‘worse off’ without the monarchy. It’s the highest figure since polling began in 1997. Clearly the institution owes much to Liz’s personal charisma and sound stewardship of the throne. In 1946, Gallup asked the public who they most admired: George VI, her father – lionised in the The King’s Speech – polled 3%, just behind Marshal Stalin.

Since her decadent coronation in 1953, Britain has changed in every way. Our imperial pretensions as a nation have subsided, notwithstanding sporadic efforts to revive them. Our society and economy has become more open, fluid and global. Yet instead of rejecting custom and tradition, the public has overwhelmingly held on to them. So what’s going on?

Ardent Royalists should simmer down. In a popularity contest the Queen has it easy. She never has to voice an opinion (prudently she never does; the Prince of Wales would do well to follow suit) or make a decision. Politicians don’t have that luxury. They are condemned to choose between rival ends, rewarding one interest group to the exclusion of another. Over a long period of time everyone gets pissed off at some politician or other, which is largely why as a class they attract derision. Queen Liz sensibly stays above the fray, though of course she is constitutionally prohibited from venturing into it. The monarchy’s relative popularity has little to do with its inhabitant’s character, though incidentally, having coped with Prince Phillip for sixty-five years surely she has a very steadfast one. Providing a monarch doesn’t do anything silly, like abolish Parliament or order Magna Carta toilet paper into the Palace, they’re bound to rub along all right with their subjects.

That’s not quite sufficient though. Personality matters. The monarch personifies the state; she is Britannia incarnate. Elizabeth’s manner doesn’t merely reflect on our nation but epitomises it. We identify with nationhood and therefore how it is defined by her actions and deeds matters greatly. In that respect we have been fortunate. Whilst the new generation is perceived to be crass, sensationalist and subject to instant gratification, the Queen is its antithesis: measured, phlegmatic and wise. The relationship between the institution of monarchy and the monarch is reciprocal – they lend credibility and reverence to each other.

Popularity is only one reason to credit the monarchy as an institution. Ultimately popularity is transient; it’s likely that current levels of support are to some degree a function of a bumper year for royalty with the Wedding, the Jubilee and the Olympics. At some point a broader public debate about its virtues and vices must be undertaken. Julia Gillard, the Australian Premier, has suggested a referendum on becoming a republic when Elizabeth II dies. That would be timely and perhaps we should follow her lead.

Political heads of state have the strength of relevance; they have the weakness of being polarising across political cleavages, something royals would find very difficult to do. With occasional slip-ups (the lacklustre response to Diana’s death) the royals have assiduously kept the pulse of the nation and are now reaping the rewards.  It is an institution like no other, medieval in origin but not in outlook. The Left are bewildered by the rude health of this anachronism, but really they shouldn’t be. It does what no quangocracy could, for a fraction of the price. In our diverse country it binds us together in a national consciousness; it is an outlet for patriotism and fraternal unity that we would otherwise find difficult to express. In doing so it strengthens our democracy. Orwell understood this; his 1941 essay The Lion and the Unicorn idealised a socialist state absent of the House of Lords but accommodating of the monarchy.  Let’s keep it, not because it’s popular but because it works. 

Martti Ahtisaari is a unique individual. A Nobel Peace Prize laureate, he has been at the heart of resolving several of the nastiest and most intractable conflicts of the past few decades. He helped end a bitter war between the Indonesian government and separatists in Aceh, and was a major participant in the negotiations that sought to resolve what to do with Kosovo after the war and genocide of 1999. He was one of the architects of the Namibian independence movement, which made the country independent from South Africa in 1990, worked in Iraq and Northern Ireland, and in between managed to find time to serve a term as President of Finland, during which Finland joined the EU.

He is a tall and broad man, though softly spoken – approachable and imposing in equal measure. Asked what drew him to a career in mediating between groups locked in violent conflict, he is quick to say that he arrived at negotiation only indirectly, after years spent first as a schoolteacher and then as a diplomat. He does admit, however, that his childhood may have left him cut out for the task. The region of Finland into which Ahtisaari was born was annexed by the Soviet Union during World War II, and he spent the first years of his life as a refugee in his own country. He explains, ‘I grew up with the feeling of being a stranger, and I think that allowed me to develop a sensitivity to what people are thinking without even any words. That’s not a bad thing for a peace mediator to have.’ He says that even as a student, he was known among his friends for his willingness to step into disputes and calm things down.

That kind of calmness, he claims, regardless of how gruesome a conflict may become, is vital for third parties if they are ever to help bring about peace. He also stressed the importance of a concerted, international effort in resolving tension: ‘These days, governments don’t want to internationalise their internal problems; they think it’s easier to try to make peace themselves. This is what happened in Indonesia; they tried to make their own ceasefire and it lasted only half a year.’ Indonesia’s Aceh province was wracked by violence between separatists and government troops for decades, with little movement towards peace.

Perversely, it took the destruction inflicted by the tsunami in 2004, which destroyed much of the Aceh region, to bring both parties back to the table. International aid was desperately needed, but could not be brought in while there was still a threat of violence. Ahtisaari emphasises that negotiators cannot step in and initiate a move towards peace: ‘if the two parties are ultimately not interested in solving a conflict, then there is really very little I can do, however brilliant I might be’ he says, with a grim laugh.

Ahtisaari currently works with an organisation called Crisis Management Initiative, an NGO devoted to helping war-torn parts of the globe piece themselves back together. Though he stresses again that third-party groups such as his can never bring belligerents to the negotiating table without the support of national governments, he argues that they do have a useful role to play. ‘Our main advantage from the perspective of governments is to do with blame: if we manage to make peace, then the governments who support us get a piece of the glory; if we fail, then it’s us that takes all the blame.’

It seems like a bleak assessment of his sometimes thankless line of work, but he seems almost pleased to be free of the burdens of political office. I ask what drew him back to run for the Finnish Presidency after so many years spent working on the international stage, and again he is quick to deny any real political ambition. He had never held political office before running for President in 1994, having built his career instead within the diplomatic service. ‘I think that I won in the end because everyone was fed up with traditional politicians, though I doubt anyone with a similar background to me would be able to do it again. I am not pleased with our system, where people start out in politics as a teenager and stay in it till they retire. I would rather see people spend at least some time in another career before they move on to politics.’

In the end, he says, he ran because he was asked to by friends and colleagues, and more importantly because he came top of a surprise poll of potential candidates than included several non-political candidates along with the mainstream party figures. He comes across as perhaps the most reluctant head of state ever to hold office, adding that even after winning his party’s primary, he would have pulled out had the other candidates asked him to. ‘I had my own career and interests,’ he adds.

Ahtisaari is an firm supporter of the EU in a country that had long been sceptical of the organisation, until it joined in 1995 under his leadership. He argues that the EU is better placed than most nation states to help resolve conflicts across the world, not least because it is one step removed from the pressures of national election cycles. More important, and often forgotten in discussions of EU politics which tend to focus on the continents western half, is the diversity of experience in the body. ‘If you look at the Arab Spring, we have countries like Libya and Egypt that are emerging from authoritarian rule, and are trying to reform. A country like Poland that only twenty years ago went through the same process can give much better advice than a more established state like Finland or the United Kingdom.’

Again, he stresses the importance of trust and of good reputation, two qualities that Western states have not always done their best to maintain. Asked what he thinks of more interventionist bodies such as the International Criminal Court, which has come under fire in recent years for focusing almost exclusively on Africa, Ahtisaari seems cautiously optimistic about the organisation’s future. ‘I think we need organisations that can really take to task individuals who have committed crimes against humanity, but they have to deal with all cases in that category, and will face accusations of double standards if they focus on one particular region. But that problem is not unique to the ICC; it’s something that the UN has been dealing with for decades.’ There is still much work to be done. He is annoyed and even ashamed, he says, that the international community has allowed so many wars to become ‘frozen conflicts’ in Africa and Asia, left to smoulder away without any real steps towards resolution. He is throughout the interview a calm, even dour man, but underlying his work and his beliefs is a remarkable degree of optimism, and above all a faith that war is ultimately not necessary. In his own words, ‘all conflicts can be solved’