You’re talking about the way the observer appears to affect the measurement of what’s being observed.
Right. There is this beautiful mathematical equation in quantum theory called the Schrödinger equation.
It uses something called the wave function to describe the system you
are studying—an atom, an electron, whatever—and all the possible ways
that system can evolve. The usual perspective of quantum mechanics is
that as soon as you measure something, the wave function literally
collapses, going from a state that reflects all potential outcomes to a
state that reflects only one: the outcome you see at the moment the
measurement is done. It seemed crazy to me. I didn’t get why you were
supposed to use the Schrödinger equation before you measured the atom,
but then, while you’re measuring it, the equation doesn’t apply. So I
got up my courage and knocked on the door of one of the most famous
physicists in Sweden, a man on the Nobel committee, but he just blew me
off. It wasn’t until years later that I had this revelation that it
wasn’t me who didn’t get it; it was him!
It is a beautiful moment in the education of a scientist when you
realize that these guys in higher positions of power still don’t have
all of the answers. So you took your questions about the Schrödinger
equation and the effect of measurement with you when you left for the
United States and your Ph.D. at Berkeley?
That’s where it all started for me. I had this friend, Bill Poirier, and
we spent hours talking about crazy ideas in physics. He was ribbing me
because I argued that any fundamental description of the universe should
be simple. To annoy him, I said there could be a whole universe that is
nothing more than a dodecahedron, a 12-sided figure the Greeks
described 2,500 years ago. Of course, I was just fooling around, but
later, when I thought more about it, I got excited about the idea that
the universe is really nothing more than a mathematical object. That got
me thinking that every mathematical object is, in a sense, its own
universe.
Right from the start you tried to get this radical idea of yours
published. Were you worried about whether it would affect your career?
I anticipated problems and did not submit until I had accepted a
postdoctoral appointment at Princeton University. My first paper got
rejected by three journals. Finally I got a good referee report from Annals of Physics, but the editor there rejected the paper as being too speculative.
Wait—that is not supposed to happen. If the referee likes a paper, it usually gets accepted.
That’s what I thought. I was fortunate to be friends with John Wheeler, a
Princeton theoretical physicist and one of my greatest physics heroes,
who recently passed away. When I showed him the rejection letter, he
said, “‘Extremely speculative’? Bah!” Then he reminded me that some of
the original papers on quantum mechanics were also considered extremely
speculative. So I wrote an appeal to Annals of Physics and included Wheeler’s comments. Finally the editors there published it.
Still, it wasn’t your bread and butter. You did your Ph.D. and postdoc in cosmology, a totally different subject.
It’s ironic that my cover for these more philosophical interests was cosmology, a field that has often been seen as flaky
as well. But cosmology was gradually becoming more respectable because
computer technology, space technology, and detector technology had
combined to give us an avalanche of great information about the
universe.
Let’s talk about your effort to understand the measurement problem
by positing parallel universes—or, as you call them in aggregate, the
multiverse. Can you explain parallel universes?
There are four different levels of multiverse. Three of them have been
proposed by other people, and I’ve added a fourth—the mathematical
universe.
What is the multiverse’s first level?
The level I multiverse is simply an infinite space. The space is
infinite, but it is not infinitely old—it’s only 14 billion years old,
dating to our Big Bang. That’s why we can’t see all of space but only
part of it—the part from which light has had time to get here so far.
Light hasn’t had time to get here from everywhere. But if space goes on
forever, then there must be other regions like ours—in fact, an infinite
number of them. No matter how unlikely it is to have another planet
just like Earth, we know that in an infinite universe it is bound to
happen again.
You’re saying that we must all have doppelgängers somewhere out there due to the mathematics of infinity.
That’s pretty crazy, right? But I’m not even asking you to believe in
anything weird yet. I’m not even asking you to believe in any kind of
crazy new physics. All you need for a level I multiverse is an infinite
universe—go far enough out and you will find another Earth with another
version of yourself.
So we are just at level I. What’s the next level of the multiverse?
Level II emerges if the fundamental equations of physics, the ones that
govern the behavior of the universe after the Big Bang, have more than
one solution. It’s like water, which can be a solid, a liquid, or a gas.
In string theory, there may be 10500 kinds or even
infinitely many kinds of universes possible. Of course string theory
might be wrong, but it’s perfectly plausible that whatever you replace
it with will also have many solutions.
Why should there be more than one kind of universe coming out of the Big Bang?
Inflationary cosmology,
which is our best theory for what happened right after the Big Bang,
says that a tiny chunk of space underwent a period of rapid expansion to
become our universe. That became our level I multiverse. But other
chunks could have inflated too, from other Big Bangs. These would be
parallel universes with different kinds of physical laws, different
solutions to those equations. This kind of parallel universe is very
different from what happens in level I.
Why?
Well, in level I, students in different parallel universes might learn a
different history from our own, but their physics would still be the
same. Students in level II parallel universes learn different history
and different physics. They might learn that there are 67 stable
elements in the periodic table, not the 80 we have. Or they might learn
there are four kinds of quarks rather than the six kinds we have in our
world.
Do these level II universes inhabit different dimensions?
No, they share the same space, but we could never communicate with them
because we are all being swept away from each other as space expands
faster than light can travel.