THE ELEGANT UNIVERSE, Brian Greene, 1999, 2003
```(annotated and with added bold highlights by Epsilon=One)
```(annotated and with added bold highlights by Epsilon=One)
Chapter 4 - Microscopic Weirdness
Waves of What?
The interference phenomenon found by Davisson and Germer made the wave-like nature of electrons tangibly evident. But waves of what? One early suggestion made by Austrian physicist Erwin Schrodinger was that the waves were "smeared-out" electrons. This captured some of the "feeling" of an electron wave, but it was too rough. When you smear something out, part of it is here and part of it is there. However, one never encounters half of an electron or a third of an electron or any other fraction, for that matter. This makes it hard to grasp what a smeared electron actually is. As an alternative, in 1926 German physicist Max Born sharply refined Schrodinger's interpretation of an electron wave, and it is his interpretation—amplified by Bohr and his colleagues—that is still with us today. Born's suggestion is one of the strangest features of quantum theory, but is supported nonetheless by an enormous amount of experimental data. He asserted that an electron wave must be interpreted from the standpoint of probability. Places where the magnitude (a bit more correctly, the square of magnitude) of the wave is large are places where the electron is more likely to be found; places where the magnitude is small are places where the electron is less likely to be found. An example is illustrated in Figure 4.9.

The probabilistic interpretation has the virtue that if an electron wave does what other waves can do—for instance, slam into some obstacle and develop all sorts of distinct ripples—it does not mean that the electron itself has shattered into separate pieces. Rather, it means that there are now a number of locations where the electron might be found with a non-negligible probability. In practice this means that if a particular experiment involving an electron is repeated over and over again in an absolutely identical manner, the same answer for, say, the measured position of an electron will not be found over and over again. Rather, the subsequent repeats of the experiment will yield a variety of different results with the property that the number of times the electron is found at any given location is governed by the shape of the electron's probability wave. If the probability wave (more precisely, the square of the probability wave) is twice as large at location A than at location B, then the theory predicts that in a sequence of many repeats of the experiment the electron will be found at location A twice as often as at location B. Exact outcomes of experiments cannot be predicted; the best we can do is predict the probability that any given outcome may occur.
Even so, as long as we can determine mathematically the precise form of probability waves, their probabilistic predictions can be tested by repeating a given experiment numerous times, thereby experimentally measuring the likelihood of getting one particular result or another. Just a few months after de Broglie's suggestion, Schrodinger took the decisive step toward this end by determining an equation that governs the shape and the evolution of probability waves, or as they came to be known, wave functions. It was not long before Schrodinger's equation and the probabilistic interpretation were being used to make wonderfully accurate predictions. By 1927, therefore, classical innocence had been lost. Gone were the days of a clockwork universe whose individual constituents were set in motion at some moment in the past and obediently fulfilled their inescapable, uniquely determined destiny. According to quantum mechanics, the universe evolves according to a rigorous and precise mathematical formalism, but this framework determines only the probability that any particular future will happen—not which future actually ensues.
Many find this conclusion troubling or even downright unacceptable. Einstein was one. In one of physics' most time-honored utterances, Einstein admonished the quantum stalwarts that "God does not play dice with the Universe." He felt that probability was turning up in fundamental physics because of a subtle version of the reason it turns up at the roulette wheel: some basic incompleteness in our understanding. The universe, in Einstein's view, had no room for a future whose precise form involves an element of chance. Physics should predict how the universe evolves, not merely the likelihood that any particular evolution might occur. But experiment after experiment—some of the most convincing ones being carried out after his death—convincingly confirm that Einstein was wrong. As the British theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking has said, on this point "Einstein was confused, not the quantum theory." 6
Nevertheless, the debate about what quantum mechanics really means continues unabated. Everyone agrees on how to use the equations of quantum theory to make accurate predictions. But there is no consensus on what it really means to have probability waves, nor on how a particle "chooses" which of its many possible futures to follow, nor even on whether it really does choose or instead splits off like a branching tributary to live out all possible futures in an ever-expanding arena of parallel universes. These interpretational issues are worthy of a book-length discussion in their own right, and, in fact, there are many excellent books that espouse one or another way of thinking about quantum theory. But what appears certain is that no matter how you interpret quantum mechanics, it undeniably shows that the universe is founded on principles that, from the standpoint of our day-to-day experiences, are bizarre.
The meta-lesson of both relativity and quantum mechanics is that when we deeply probe the fundamental workings of the universe we may come upon aspects that are vastly different from our expectations. The boldness of asking deep questions may require unforeseen flexibility if we are to accept the answers.

Figure 4.9 The wave associated with an electron is largest where the electron is most likely to be found, and progressively smaller at locations where it is less likely to be found.
This is truly a peculiar idea. What business does probability have in the formulation of fundamental physics? We are accustomed to probability showing up in horse races, in coin tosses, and at the roulette table, but in those cases it merely reflects our incomplete knowledge. If we knew precisely the speed of the roulette wheel, the weight and hardness of the white marble, the location and speed of the marble when it drops to the wheel, the exact specifications of the material constituting the cubicles and so on, and if we made use of sufficiently powerful computers to carry out our calculations we would, according to classical physics, be able to predict with certainty where the marble would settle. Gambling casinos rely on your inability to ascertain all of this information and to do the necessary calculations prior to placing your bet. But we see that probability as encountered at the roulette table does not reflect anything particularly fundamental about how the world works. Quantum mechanics, on the contrary, injects the concept of probability into the universe at a far deeper level. According to Born and more than half a century of subsequent experiments, the wave nature of matter implies that matter itself must be described fundamentally in a probabilistic manner. For macroscopic objects like a coffee cup or the roulette wheel, de Broglie's rule shows that the wave-like character is virtually unnoticeable and for most ordinary purposes the associated quantum-mechanical probability can be completely ignored. But at a microscopic level we learn that the best we can ever do is say that an electron has a particular probability of being found at any given location.The probabilistic interpretation has the virtue that if an electron wave does what other waves can do—for instance, slam into some obstacle and develop all sorts of distinct ripples—it does not mean that the electron itself has shattered into separate pieces. Rather, it means that there are now a number of locations where the electron might be found with a non-negligible probability. In practice this means that if a particular experiment involving an electron is repeated over and over again in an absolutely identical manner, the same answer for, say, the measured position of an electron will not be found over and over again. Rather, the subsequent repeats of the experiment will yield a variety of different results with the property that the number of times the electron is found at any given location is governed by the shape of the electron's probability wave. If the probability wave (more precisely, the square of the probability wave) is twice as large at location A than at location B, then the theory predicts that in a sequence of many repeats of the experiment the electron will be found at location A twice as often as at location B. Exact outcomes of experiments cannot be predicted; the best we can do is predict the probability that any given outcome may occur.
Even so, as long as we can determine mathematically the precise form of probability waves, their probabilistic predictions can be tested by repeating a given experiment numerous times, thereby experimentally measuring the likelihood of getting one particular result or another. Just a few months after de Broglie's suggestion, Schrodinger took the decisive step toward this end by determining an equation that governs the shape and the evolution of probability waves, or as they came to be known, wave functions. It was not long before Schrodinger's equation and the probabilistic interpretation were being used to make wonderfully accurate predictions. By 1927, therefore, classical innocence had been lost. Gone were the days of a clockwork universe whose individual constituents were set in motion at some moment in the past and obediently fulfilled their inescapable, uniquely determined destiny. According to quantum mechanics, the universe evolves according to a rigorous and precise mathematical formalism, but this framework determines only the probability that any particular future will happen—not which future actually ensues.
Many find this conclusion troubling or even downright unacceptable. Einstein was one. In one of physics' most time-honored utterances, Einstein admonished the quantum stalwarts that "God does not play dice with the Universe." He felt that probability was turning up in fundamental physics because of a subtle version of the reason it turns up at the roulette wheel: some basic incompleteness in our understanding. The universe, in Einstein's view, had no room for a future whose precise form involves an element of chance. Physics should predict how the universe evolves, not merely the likelihood that any particular evolution might occur. But experiment after experiment—some of the most convincing ones being carried out after his death—convincingly confirm that Einstein was wrong. As the British theoretical physicist Stephen Hawking has said, on this point "Einstein was confused, not the quantum theory." 6
Nevertheless, the debate about what quantum mechanics really means continues unabated. Everyone agrees on how to use the equations of quantum theory to make accurate predictions. But there is no consensus on what it really means to have probability waves, nor on how a particle "chooses" which of its many possible futures to follow, nor even on whether it really does choose or instead splits off like a branching tributary to live out all possible futures in an ever-expanding arena of parallel universes. These interpretational issues are worthy of a book-length discussion in their own right, and, in fact, there are many excellent books that espouse one or another way of thinking about quantum theory. But what appears certain is that no matter how you interpret quantum mechanics, it undeniably shows that the universe is founded on principles that, from the standpoint of our day-to-day experiences, are bizarre.
The meta-lesson of both relativity and quantum mechanics is that when we deeply probe the fundamental workings of the universe we may come upon aspects that are vastly different from our expectations. The boldness of asking deep questions may require unforeseen flexibility if we are to accept the answers.