Sheldon: In 1935, Erwin Schrödinger, in an attempt to explain the Copenhagen interpretation of quantum
physics, he proposed an experiment where a cat is placed in a box with a sealed
vial of poison that will break open at a random time. Now, since no one knows
when or if the poison has been released, until the box is opened, the cat can
be thought of as both alive and dead.
Penny: I’m sorry; I
don’t get the point.
Sheldon: Well, of course
you don’t get it: I haven’t made it yet.
The Big Bang Theory S1 E17, ‘The
Tangerine Factor’ (2008)
So
you know Schrödinger’s cat?
 |
| Thanks to the talented Tomsan at newgrounds.com for this absolutely charming poster. |
At
the risk of employing an analogy so abstruse that it obscures rather than
illuminates the point I’m trying to make, here’s a rough description of Erwin Schrödinger’s
famous thought experiment from my non-scientifically-minded self, that’s
nevertheless a bit more comprehensive than the extremely pared-down version
given by Sheldon in my opening quotation. As I understand it, when one does
experiments to figure out what tiny little elementary particles like protons
and photons and electrons and other sorts of –ons are doing, they prove
themselves extraordinarily unpredictable. There’s just no way of knowing how
they’re going to behave in any given instance. One way of explaining this
erraticness is known as the Copenhagen interpretation, which posits that an
object exists in a state of superposition – that is, in multiple different
states at once – until it’s actually observed, or interacts with the outside
world in some other way, at which point the superposition is forced to collapse
into one particular state. Which state it plumps for varies, of course, hence
the unpredictability of the behaviour of quantum objects. Schrödinger thought
this was a stupid idea, and to illustrate as much, he imagined a scenario in
which a cat is put in a box, along with a vessel containing a tiny amount of a
radioactive substance – said amount being carefully chosen so that there is a
fifty-fifty chance within the next hour of an atom radioactively decaying and
emitting a radioactive particle. Also in the box is a Geiger counter (which
measures the presence of radioactive stuff), rigged up to a hammer next to a
vial of poison. If the Geiger counter detects radioactivity, the hammer with
smash the vial of poison, thereby killing the cat. The box is then sealed – cut
off from being observed by or interacting with the outside world. Consequently,
there’s no way of predicting or measuring the behaviour of those tricksy little
particles during the next hour, and according to the Copenhagen interpretation,
that must mean the situation is in a state of superposition as to whether the
radioactive decay has taken place or not. Until the box is opened, the
situation is observed, and the superposition is forced to collapse into one
possibility or the other, the radioactive particle is simultaneously present
and not present; the Geiger counter has simultaneously triggered the hammer and
not triggered it; the vial of poison has simultaneously been smashed and not
been smashed; and as a result, the cat is simultaneously alive and dead. Except
it obviously isn’t, because cats don’t do that. And this, then, was Schrödinger’s
point: if a cat can’t be both alive and dead at the same time, then the
Copenhagen interpretation doesn’t work.1
Now,
as unbelievable as this may seem after that last paragraph, I’m not actually
here to discuss physics today, and I’m not at all commenting on whether
Schrödinger’s disdain for the Copenhagen interpretation was justified, to what
extent it remains a plausible theory, or whether alternatives are more compelling.2
That would be neither interesting for you nor, given that I haven’t studied any
Physics since a slightly botched AS-level, particularly educational. Rather,
take the key fact on which Schrödinger’s conclusion rested: the hypothesised
cat is actually alive or actually dead. It can’t exist in some weird
in-betweeny both-at-once state where it could theoretically turn out to be either
of the two – because it’s a cat, and cats don’t do that, whatever weird little
quantum particles may or may not do. The fact that you don’t know whether the
cat’s alive or dead until you open the box doesn’t mean that it wasn’t already either
one or the other before then. Equally, though, because the matter of whether it’s
alive or dead rests on something you have no way of observing until you open
the box, there’s no way of knowing which it is until you do so.
The
first week of December has historically been one in which I’ve tended to make use
of my blog to stick my humble oar into the whole predestination debate, and
since my views on the matter haven’t shifted much from where they were two
years ago, I thought I’d resume the theme this year by addressing a consequence
of the issue rather than the issue itself.3 Scripture spills over
with affirmations that predestination is a thing, that every human being has
already been specifically designated as either a vessel of wrath or a vessel of
mercy.4 It’s one or the other: there’s no in-betweeny state where a
person could theoretically turn out to be either of the two. Before God spoke
the present order into existence, he had already selected the individuals yet
unborn who will be made righteous by the blood of Christ and inherit a place in
the world to come. Ultimately, each of us is, like Schrödinger’s cat, either
dead or alive. But – and it’s a big but – we can’t see inside anybody else’s
metaphorical box.
There’s
a physical reality that we can observe, and there’s a spiritual reality that,
under normal circumstances, we can’t. Physically, we who trust in Jesus
are on earth, in the flesh; spiritually, we are seated with him in the
heavenly places. Physically, we sin every day; spiritually, we
are as sinless as he is. Physically, we are all going to die; spiritually,
we are alive forever and ever.5 But when you look at a human being,
you can’t see his or her spirit. You can’t see inside the box. You can’t tell
whether the cat is dead or alive. You can’t tell, not until the box is opened,
namely until the spiritual reality becomes observable – either at death or at
the end of the age.
Now,
I don’t mean to imply that there’s absolutely no evidence to be gathered as to
whether a person is born again or not; that’s where this analogy comes apart
slightly. If someone confesses Jesus as Lord and strives to follow his
commandments, that’s a pretty strong indication that he or she is spiritually
alive; if not, that’s a pretty strong indication otherwise. But then again,
there are people who absolutely seem to have grasped the gospel and given
themselves to the pursuit of God’s glory, and then end up denying that he even
exists; and there are people who live their whole lives in utter rejection of
Jesus as Lord, only to turn and repent at the very last minute. The cat is
either dead or alive – each of us is either a vessel of wrath or a vessel of
mercy – but until the box is opened, there’s no knowing for sure which one it
is.
I
actually think there are two massive encouragements contained in this state of
affairs. First off, if you’re alive, you’re alive, end of story: there’s no unpredictability
as to which state you’ll ultimately be found in, no possibility that things
might swing the other way at the moment of collapse. If God chose you before
the foundation of the world, if Jesus has already borne his Father’s wrath in
your place, if the Spirit has already been given you as a deposit of your
inheritance, then you can be as sure as you like that you’re going to get that
inheritance. The assurance we have is phenomenal; nothing could ever be more
certain than that God will have his way, and that both frees us from the need to
try to exercise any influence over these things ourselves, and empowers us to
live in a way that demonstrates total trust in him. Second, there is always, always
hope that someone who seems dead at the moment might yet turn out to be
alive when the box is opened. Affirming predestination doesn’t amount to
assuming a defeatist attitude about the spread of the gospel. It takes the
pressure off us, because we can’t actually do anything to change a person’s
eternal destiny – the work is the Lord’s – but it’s no reason at all to give up
hope on anybody, or suppose that our attempts to preach the gospel are in vain.
At the moment, we can’t observe the spiritual reality; when, one day, we can,
an awful lot about it is probably going to surprise us.
Schrödinger’s
cat is either dead or alive, but there’s no way of knowing which until the box
is opened. One day, the spiritual reality will be made observable to us, but
until then, we live by faith – faith by which we can walk in total assurance of
our own salvation, while actively hoping and striving for the salvation of
others. Let’s aim to do exactly that.
Footnotes
1
Gratitude is due to IFL Science and Sixty Symbols for helping me get my head
round this jazz: https://www.iflscience.com/physics/schr%C3%B6dinger%E2%80%99s-cat-explained/.
Any misrepresentation of the matter here is entirely my own fault.
2
Apparently a lot of quantum physicists prefer the Many-Worlds interpretation
these days: https://science.howstuffworks.com/innovation/science-questions/quantum-suicide.htm.
3
My previous posts on this topic are ‘Freedestination’, under December 2015, and
‘Freedestination Revisited’, under December 2016. My views progressed a lot
during that year. Oh, and I also put forward some thoughts on election in ‘Fair
Choice’, under July of this year. Just in case you really haven’t got anything
better to do with your time right now, though if so, my deepest condolences.
4
For that particular bit of phrasing, you’re looking at Romans 9, https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=romans+9&version=ESVUK,
but you really can’t read the New Testament for very long before you hit some
mention or other of the whole predestination business.
5
Excuse to read Ephesians: https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=eph+1&version=ESVUK.
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