Quantum Mechanics as Subjectivity and Projective Stimulus

When a leading physicist becomes psychotic, it is considered a personal, not a scientific tragedy. By contrast, even a minor personal transgression in an analyst (of historical importance) can be a call to arms for major revisionist concern. The so-called human equation is regarded as present but negligible in the case of physicists (acknowledged mainly in the cognitive style, presentation and defense of the theory, but rarely in the origination of it); as though, for example, a physicist suffering from pathological narcissism will — when doing physics — efficiently extinguish any flavor of grandiosity from his personal theory of the cosmos. By contrast, the human equation is believed to be so invasive and insistent in analysts, that they are often judged as politicians, more for their moral character (or presumed lack of it), than for any hard-won, counterbalancing professional objectivity in human relations. This is as though psychoanalysis were to be reckoned chiefly as an unscientific artifact of the id.

David Rapaport, architect of one of the dominant psychoanalytic paradigms for projective testing, summarized what he considered to be the important ingredients of a valid projective technique. He noted that, “If the material is unorganized or unfamiliar, the function of organization becomes predominant (that is, is projected)”. Much of this projected organization will be that of lending meaning to ambiguity. However, he added that the subject matter must be “close to the core of the personality,” and he cautioned that unless there was a method of inter-individual comparison, of objectively scoring the data, there could be no true projective technique.

In this article we shall look, from the psychoanalytic angle, at the human equation in physics. Following Rapaport, we can agree before we start that because of the lack of reliable interindividual comparison, the constructs and theories of physics will never be seen as a true and useful projective technique. Yet, in spite of this, if we look at the constructs of physics subjectively, as well as objectively, that is, as psychoanalytic representations (J. Sandler and B. Rosenblatt) imbued with meaning and memory in the mind of the physicist, it may be shown, that they can also be “close to the core of the personality” (Rapaport).

It may be further shown that much of the profound paradoxical ambiguity, that so often characterized twentieth century quantum mechanics, well satisfies the Rapaport criterion that the material be unorganized or unfamiliar, and that the function of organization become predominant. This adds up to an undifferentiated, charged domain (albeit theoretical and cognitive) that becomes a lure and enticement for Projecting (into it) cohesive meaning and subjectivity.

The paradoxical ambiguity of twentieth century quantum mechanics is sufficiently pronounced as to be considered starkly revolutionary. Richard Feynman, the great particle physicist, believed that to understand quantum mechanics one absolutely needed a mind that could accept that which deeply went against the grain of common sense. The very word quantum as in “quantum jump” implies a discontinuity between the state before the quantum jump and the state afterwards — a necessary indeterminancy descriptively reflected in probabilistic laws. It is not hard to see how this state of affairs could summon an impulse to organize and even fabricate meaning.

The famous Heisenberg uncertainty principle (Stephen Hawking) that one can never be exactly sure of both the position and the velocity of a particle, seems to create an aura of perpetual doubt. The absence of distinction between waves and particles results in ambiguity about light, the primary medium through which we take in the world. Does it come in waves or particles? This question can serve to strengthen the basic ambiguity about the world itself.

The timelessness of physics in which neither past nor future is acknowledged while emptying it of human meaning can also create the need for such meaning to be projected into it. Niels Bohr’s notion of complementarity (Freeman Dyson) — in which the experimental situation cannot be divorced from the observer who is part of the data — introduces subjectivity (and therefore uncertainty) into physics. This is somewhat reminiscent of Harry Stack Sullivan’s participant-observer in the field of psychiatry.

Profound and irreconcilable contradictions between the two guiding theories of the universe — quantum mechanics and the theory of general relativity — can seem, in its apparent irrationality, a defiant, cosmic irony. In spite of this, the vast reductionist program of physics goes on: the world as we know it systematically being broken down into proposed, elemental building blocks — space, time, matter, anti-matter, and the four forces — in the unyielding hope of finding a model simple enough to meet the criterion of experimental falsifiability.

It is instructive to see how all of these revolutionary milestones of twentieth century quantum mechanics — i.e., paradoxical ambiguity, the running counter to common sense, probabilistic discontinuity, the uncertainty principle, the implied ambiguity of the wave/particle duality, and the implied irrationality of the two leading theories fundamentally contradicting one another — more than meet the Rapaport criterion of appearing “unorganized and unfamiliar” with the consequence that the function of organization becomes predominant (is projected).” By talking about physics in this way as only one of many possible outcomes of a projective stimulus, it is not meant in any way to compromise the status of objective reality that adheres to the Queen of Sciences.

It does suggest, however, that what is conventionally meant by physics, refers only to the tangible end product of a long affective and cognitive process that begins, at least in part, in subjectivity. It does suggest that physicists may be far more subjective than they realize in the construction of their theories but do not have to pay the price for such subjectivity that other theorists (e.g., psychoanalysts) pay. This is because they are spared by that magnificent filter of experimental falsifiability (wherein everything of detectably distorted subjectivity is weeded out, and only what matches up well with verifiable reality is allowed to survive).

It is as though physicists collectively have decided that subjectivity (the human equation to which they politely tip their hat and then ignore) is irrelevant to what they are truly interested in: experimental falsifiability. In this sense, theoretical physics by endeavoring so rigorously to capture and then prove objective reality, may be unwittingly denying the subjective reality, out of which the objective reality is to be discovered.

By contrast, psychoanalysis, if it “proves” anything — proves the subjective reality (subjectivity) out of which individual objective reality arises. In contrast again to physics, psychoanalysis — far from belittling the human equation — embraces and welcomes it as an indispensable tool. Yet, these differences aside, the creative core of theoretical physics and of psychoanalysis may be more closely aligned than is generally perceived.

If this is so, what of Rapaport’s second requirement, that the subject matter must be “close to the core of the personality?” At first glance, the stylized and highly abstract language of physics may seem to preclude a genuinely deep human connection. But if we move beyond the language to the dynamic process and activity of physics, and dig deep enough, we may eventually meet the psychoanalytic child of lore who asks his parents, “Where do I come from?” If we peel away enough layers of high tech from the high energy, nuclear reactor physicist, with his miles long accelerator smashing particles together, we may also encounter the phallic aggressive, excited little boy banging away at bumper cars.

Modern physics begins by stripping away everything that is identifiable and meaningful in the world in the hope of finding a toy model of the same world simple enough to be experimentally manipulatable. What is often overlooked is that this may simultaneously be exciting unwanted, unconscious fantasies. The very fact that physics begins with skeletal building blocks of the universe — well before any hierarchical levels of human meaning could possibly have been reached — strongly suggests that meaning must be supplied by the physicist and by the nature of the enterprise can never be found (i.e. must be projected).

THE REPRESENTATIONAL WORLD OF PHYSICS

The position taken here is that the many correspondences and overlapping in imagery between the story of the origin of the human race and the story of the origin of the universe are scarcely coincidental: that there exist in the psyche (in the psychoanalytic sense) representations of physical constructs, of the universe, as well as of everything else we talk about that — when properly charged — may be projected. These representations or analogies, in order to be operative, do not at all need to be objectively true, but they do need to have psychic reality.

Certainly, these representations will vary from one physicist’s psyche to the other, as well as from one layman’s psyche to the other, but the point is, by their very nature, they will be generally close to the core of the person (in the Rapaport sense), and therefore are likely to elicit strong projective responses (albeit of the theory building kind).

What are some likely representations or correspondences of the world in the mind that may be grist for projection? While allowing for a wide range of individual variation, we can note:

l. The uncertainty principle itself, in a curious sense, can be applied to the early psychoanalytic conception of the unconscious. The very act of observing the unconscious, of trying to make the unconscious conscious, must thereby alter it. In the sense that the unconscious can never be directly observed, it adds an uncertainty principle to any attempt to objectify and verify the unconscious that has been as troublesome to analysts as Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle has been to physicists.

1. The astrophysicist’s theory of cold dark matter, wherein most of the matter of the universe is missing, unseen, invisible but must be out there — sounds suspiciously like the unconscious.
2. The theory of black holes postulates a region from which nothing, not even light can escape, because gravity is so strong (Stephen Hawking). It is strangely analogous (with memory as a metaphor for gravity) to the psychoanalytic idea of the dynamically repressed unconscious — a region from which little escapes, whether because of primal repression (sounding in this context like a psychic black hole) or because sense events may happen to us before proper traces are laid down.
3. New theories in physics concerning the dynamics of matter and energy can echo the classical psychoanalytic model of the mind, especially its dynamics and energetics. Anti-matter, which when colliding with its corresponding matter particle annihilates it, reminds us of the old meta-psychological battles between cathexis and anti-cathexis. The strong nuclear force of physics which binds neutrons and protons together in the atom can stand in for the synthesizing psychoanalytic ego while the weak force of physics, involved in the breakup of symmetries, can at least suggest the id-tendency to discharge.
4. There is a striking overlap and resonance between the language used to describe the story of the origin of the cosmos and the theory of the origin of the human race. In both there is birth (the “Big Bang”), differentiation and growth versus expansion (the Inflationary Model), and death (the Big Crunch). The universe begins in a high state of order — the proposed unification of the four forces of nature (symmetry) — and with the Big Bang comes a breakup of one symmetry after another: This splits up and establishes the four forces. This can be seen as analogous to the original coding of all cellular functions in the first fertilized cell and the subsequent differentiation and specialization of cells with their various functions.

What is radically different is that the universe begins — at a size allegedly smaller than the head of a pin — in the highest state of order (symmetry) and progressively becomes more disordered (entropy — the second law of thermodynamics). This contrasts with human beings, who, from the moment of conception, begin in a high state of order and in the course of embryonic development increase that order.

1. The contrasts are as instructive (and perhaps as projectively stimulating) as the correspondences. The story of human beings is the story of biology while the universe from the Big Bang until the origin of life many billions of years later is essentially dead. The psyche may be seen as interior, space within, alive, microcosmic; the cosmos as exterior, space without, Inanimate and macrocosmic.

In human beings there is self-replication, communication and information-storage; in the cosmos there is no self-replication, only the four forces and rotational, gravitational dynamics. In human beings there are precise, known laws antedating the moment of conception and two known creators. In the universe, there are no known laws antedating the Big Bang and an unknown Creator.

1. The organic primeval soup theory (Richard Dawkins) — in its very name — is richly suggestive of the nebulous undifferentiated state from which life purportedly originated (and is thereby projective).

This list of representations is as speculative as it is sketchy. Physicists do not need to be aware of them nor believe in them in order for them to be operative. Nor do they need to be in any way conversant with the psychoanalytic model of the mind. In fact, according to Rapaport, the effectiveness of projective stimuli depends, in part, on their representational meaning not being known to the subjects. Theoretical physicists easily meet this criterion: the more creative they are, the more unconventional, uncharted and novel the concepts they deal in are. Hence the more unknown to them their true, representational unconscious meanings are likely to be.

The belief that physical concepts are largely impersonal and seemingly far removed from the patently more subjectivist material of artists, such as writers, further disguises the hidden representational meanings of these physical concepts (and make it safer for physicists to unconsciously project, if so motivated). This may help explain why writers, in a curious reaction formation, give more indignant disclaimers of autobiographical content and inspiration than do physicists (who, of course, generally do not have to give such disclaimers because they are not asked).

Despite the fact that subjectivity has already been introduced into physics with Niels Bohr’s notion of complementarity (in which the experimental situation cannot be divorced from the observer who is part of the data) and more recently with the frankly teleological Anthropic Principle — “We see the universe the way it is because, if it were different, we should not be here to observe it” (Stephen Hawking) — the human equation continues to be mainly overlooked in the creations of great physicists. We can summarize this by saying subjectivity may have been introduced into physics, but it has not yet been introduced into physicists. This may be why no one seems to care that the same fantastic stubbornness that drove Einstein for thirty five years to try (in vain) to overturn the foundations of quantum mechanics — also drove him earlier to the triumphant discovery of the General Theory of Relativity. They only care that he was right in his youth and wrong in his old age. No one cares that Stephen Hawking, most famous black hole theorist in the world, as he sits atrophying from a form of sclerosis in his wheelchair, his mind heroically soaring across the cosmos, can bear a striking metaphorical resemblance to light trapped in a black hole, yet struggling to escape. No one cares that Richard Feynman (1985), brash, self-confessed prankster safe cracker, who revolutionized physics — bears a striking resemblance to his sum over histories of particles: particles that go backwards and forwards in time, wherever they please, without constraint. If Richard Feynman had set out to design an electron-building block of the universe that could perfectly reflect his exuberantly unconstrained personality — he could not have done any better than the one he “discovered.” The fact it stood up almost flawlessly to repeated experimental verification — far from denying the subjectivity which drove him to his discovery — merely camouflages it.

Only Feynman could have said and only Hawking can know if there is any substance in these particular analogies. However, even if there isn’t, it is hard to see how their individual core of subjectivity did not in some deep way impose itself creatively on their crucial scientific discoveries.

If this is so, it is overlooked because the subjectivity of physicists is overlooked. And by subjectivity, it should be clarified, is meant those factors involved in the creative process that derive and depend more on the personality of the discoverer than on the objective nature of that which is to be discovered. We can agree that such proposed subjective creative process of physicists can never be likened to a projective test. But we cannot fail to take note of the nearness of the material to the core of the personality, its unknown representational meaning, and, especially, the extraordinarily unorganized, undifferentiated domain of quantum mechanics. These are definite criteria, according to Rapaport, of a projective technique which seem to be undeniably joined in the engagement of modern physics. This makes, it seems to us, for — not a projective technique — but a projective stimulus that can inform (and perhaps one day clarify) even the most outstandingly “objective” discoveries.

If projective stimulus, projection, and subjectivity, then, are a part of physics, is there any characteristic distortion (were we qualified enough to unravel it) we can look for in the projections of physicists? One comes to mind. Given that physicists are biological organisms and that the universe is not, and for many billions of years presumably did not contain a single living organism, and given the already richly suggestive, confusing, sometimes blurring overlap in the psyche between biological processes and cosmological processes — it may be biological processes can be projectively mapped onto cosmological processes in places where they do not really belong. This may underlie the growing tendency in science (not to speak of anti-scientific creationism) to bring God out of the closet and back into theoretical physics: Freeman Dyson eloquently bemoaning the absence of biology in the cosmos; Stephen Hawking concluding his hopes for a complete theory of the universe, unembarrassingly, with these words, “If we find the answer to that, it would be the ultimate triumph of human reason, for then we would know the mind of GOD”.

In this regard, we are reminded of Max Schur’s discussion of Freud’s assertion that there is no death (denial of death) in the unconscious. Accordingly, it may be difficult for some physicists to really believe in a non-biological, non-mentalistic Creator of the universe and may respond by projectively mapping such desires onto the universe. Even if it does turn out that behind the Big Bang there is a mind-like, designing Creator of the universe, this may still be true. In other words, even if God were somehow scientifically proven to exist, it would not necessarily diminish in any way the strength of the stimulus to project God: on the contrary, it may even increase it. This is because the effectiveness of a projective stimulus — whether it be to project God or anything else — depends less on the underlying objective reality than on the force of the stimulus itself: which in turn is dependent on certain criteria being met (lack of organization, undifferentiation; closeness to the core of the personality; representational meaning of the stimulus being unknown to the person).

Seen in this light, even so grand a question as what is the ultimate nature of the possible Creator (if there is one) of the Big Bang may depend not only on objective reality — for an answer — but also on a greater understanding of subjectivity and projective stimulus.

Gerald Alper

Author of God and Therapy

What We Believe When No

One Is Watching

(The above article was published in “Human Sciences Press”).