From God’s Perspective, There Are No Fields…Justified Newtonian, Unjustified Relativistic Claim. Note Quote.

Electromagnetism is a relativistic theory. Indeed, it had been relativistic, or Lorentz invariant, before Einstein and Minkowski understood that this somewhat peculiar symmetry of Maxwell’s equations was not accidental but expressive of a radically new structure of time and space. Minkowski spacetime, in contrast to Newtonian spacetime, doesn’t come with a preferred space-like foliation, its geometric structure is not one of ordered slices representing “objective” hyperplanes of absolute simultaneity. But Minkowski spacetime does have an objective (geometric) structure of light-cones, with one double-light-cone originating in every point. The most natural way to define a particle interaction in Minkowski spacetime is to have the particles interact directly, not along equal-time hyperplanes but along light-cones

Particle-b-interacts-with-particle-a-at-point-x-via-retarded-and-advanced-waves-The-mass

In other words, if zi􏱁i)  and zjj􏱁) denote the trajectories of two charged particles, it wouldn’t make sense to say that the particles interact at “equal times” as it is in Newtonian theory. It would however make perfectly sense to say that the particles interact whenever

(zμi zμj)(zμi zμj) = (zi – zj)2 = 0 —– (1)

For an observer finding himself in a universe guided by such laws it might then seem like the effects of particle interactions were propagating through space with the speed of light. And this observer may thus insist that there must be something in addition to the particles, something moving or evolving in spacetime and mediating interactions between charged particles. And all this would be a completely legitimate way of speaking, only that it would reflect more about how things appear from a local perspective in a particular frame of reference than about what is truly and objectively going on in the physical world. From “Gods perspective” there are no fields (or photons, or anything of that kind) – only particles in spacetime interacting with each other. This might sound hypothetical, but, it actually is not entirely fictitious. for such a formulation of electrodynamics actually exists and is known as Wheeler-Feynman electrodynamics, or Wheeler-Feynman Absorber Theory. There is a formal property of field equations called “gauge invariance” which makes it possible to look at things in several different, but equivalent, ways. Because of gauge invariance, this theory says that when you push on something, it creates a disturbance in the gravitational field that propagates outward into the future. Out there in the distant future the disturbance interacts with chiefly the distant matter in the universe. It wiggles. When it wiggles it sends a gravitational disturbance backward in time (a so-called “advanced” wave). The effect of all of these “advanced” disturbances propagating backward in time is to create the inertial reaction force you experience at the instant you start to push (and cancel the advanced wave that would otherwise be created by you pushing on the object). So, in this view fields do not have a real existence independent of the sources that emit and absorb them. It is defined by the principle of least action.

Wheeler–Feynman electrodynamics and Maxwell–Lorentz electrodynamics are for all practical purposes empirically equivalent, and it may seem that the choice between the two candidate theories is merely one of convenience and philosophical preference. But this is not really the case since the sad truth is that the field theory, despite its phenomenal success in practical applications and the crucial role it played in the development of modern physics, is inconsistent. The reason is quite simple. The Maxwell–Lorentz theory for a system of N charged particles is defined, as it should be, by a set of mathematical equations. The equation of motion for the particles is given by the Lorentz force law, which is

The electromagnetic force F on a test charge at a given point and time is a certain function of its charge q and velocity v, which can be parameterized by exactly two vectors E and B, in the functional form:

describing the acceleration of a charged particle in an electromagnetic field. The electromagnetic field, represented by the field-tensor Fμν, is described by Maxwell’s equations. The homogenous Maxwell equations tell us that the antisymmetric tensor Fμν (a 2-form) can be written as the exterior derivative of a potential (a 1-form) Aμ(x), i.e. as

Fμν = ∂μ Aν – ∂ν Aμ —– (2)

The inhomogeneous Maxwell equations couple the field degrees of freedom to matter, that is, they tell us how the charges determine the configuration of the electromagnetic field. Fixing the gauge-freedom contained in (2) by demanding ∂μAμ(x) = 0 (Lorentz gauge), the remaining Maxwell equations take the particularly simple form:

□ Aμ = – 4π jμ —– (3)

where

□ = ∂μμ

is the d’Alembert operator and jμ the 4-current density.

The light-cone structure of relativistic spacetime is reflected in the Lorentz-invariant equation (3). The Liénard–Wiechert field at spacetime point x depends on the trajectories of the particles at the points of intersection with the (past and future) light-cones originating in x. The Liénard–Wiechert field (the solution of (3)) is singular precisely at the points where it is needed, namely on the world-lines of the particles. This is the notorious problem of the electron self-interaction: a charged particle generates a field, the field acts back on the particle, the field-strength becomes infinite at the point of the particle and the interaction terms blow up. Hence, the simple truth is that the field concept for managing interactions between point-particles doesn’t work, unless one relies on formal manipulations like renormalization or modifies Maxwell’s laws on small scales. However, we don’t need the fields and by taking the idea of a relativistic interaction theory seriously, we can “cut the middle man” and let the particles interact directly. The status of the Maxwell equation’s (3) in Wheeler–Feynman theory is now somewhat analogous to the status of Laplace’s equation in Newtonian gravity. We can get to the Gallilean invariant theory by writing the force as the gradient of a potential and having that potential satisfy the simplest nontrivial Galilean invariant equation, which is the Laplace equation:

∆V(x, t) = ∑iδ(x – xi(t)) —– (4)

Similarly, we can get the (arguably) simplest Lorentz invariant theory by writing the force as the exterior derivative of a potential and having that potential satisfy the simplest nontrivial Lorentz invariant equation, which is (3). And as concerns the equation of motion for the particles, the trajectories, if, are parametrized by proper time, then the Minkowski norm of the 4-velocity is a constant of motion. In Newtonian gravity, we can make sense of the gravitational potential at any point in space by conceiving its effect on a hypothetical test particle, feeling the gravitational force without gravitating itself. However, nothing in the theory suggests that we should take the potential seriously in that way and conceive of it as a physical field. Indeed, the gravitational potential is really a function on configuration space rather than a function on physical space, and it is really a useful mathematical tool rather than corresponding to physical degrees of freedom. From the point of view of a direct interaction theory, an analogous reasoning would apply in the relativistic context. It may seem (and historically it has certainly been the usual understanding) that (3), in contrast to (4), is a dynamical equation, describing the temporal evolution of something. However, from a relativistic perspective, this conclusion seems unjustified.

Knowledge Limited for Dummies….Didactics.

header_Pipes

Bertrand Russell with Alfred North Whitehead, in the Principia Mathematica aimed to demonstrate that “all pure mathematics follows from purely logical premises and uses only concepts defined in logical terms.” Its goal was to provide a formalized logic for all mathematics, to develop the full structure of mathematics where every premise could be proved from a clear set of initial axioms.

Russell observed of the dense and demanding work, “I used to know of only six people who had read the later parts of the book. Three of those were Poles, subsequently (I believe) liquidated by Hitler. The other three were Texans, subsequently successfully assimilated.” The complex mathematical symbols of the manuscript required it to be written by hand, and its sheer size – when it was finally ready for the publisher, Russell had to hire a panel truck to send it off – made it impossible to copy. Russell recounted that “every time that I went out for a walk I used to be afraid that the house would catch fire and the manuscript get burnt up.”

Momentous though it was, the greatest achievement of Principia Mathematica was realized two decades after its completion when it provided the fodder for the metamathematical enterprises of an Austrian, Kurt Gödel. Although Gödel did face the risk of being liquidated by Hitler (therefore fleeing to the Institute of Advanced Studies at Princeton), he was neither a Pole nor a Texan. In 1931, he wrote a treatise entitled On Formally Undecidable Propositions of Principia Mathematica and Related Systems, which demonstrated that the goal Russell and Whitehead had so single-mindedly pursued was unattainable.

The flavor of Gödel’s basic argument can be captured in the contradictions contained in a schoolboy’s brainteaser. A sheet of paper has the words “The statement on the other side of this paper is true” written on one side and “The statement on the other side of this paper is false” on the reverse. The conflict isn’t resolvable. Or, even more trivially, a statement like; “This statement is unprovable.” You cannot prove the statement is true, because doing so would contradict it. If you prove the statement is false, then that means its converse is true – it is provable – which again is a contradiction.

The key point of contradiction for these two examples is that they are self-referential. This same sort of self-referentiality is the keystone of Gödel’s proof, where he uses statements that imbed other statements within them. This problem did not totally escape Russell and Whitehead. By the end of 1901, Russell had completed the first round of writing Principia Mathematica and thought he was in the homestretch, but was increasingly beset by these sorts of apparently simple-minded contradictions falling in the path of his goal. He wrote that “it seemed unworthy of a grown man to spend his time on such trivialities, but . . . trivial or not, the matter was a challenge.” Attempts to address the challenge extended the development of Principia Mathematica by nearly a decade.

Yet Russell and Whitehead had, after all that effort, missed the central point. Like granite outcroppings piercing through a bed of moss, these apparently trivial contradictions were rooted in the core of mathematics and logic, and were only the most readily manifest examples of a limit to our ability to structure formal mathematical systems. Just four years before Gödel had defined the limits of our ability to conquer the intellectual world of mathematics and logic with the publication of his Undecidability Theorem, the German physicist Werner Heisenberg’s celebrated Uncertainty Principle had delineated the limits of inquiry into the physical world, thereby undoing the efforts of another celebrated intellect, the great mathematician Pierre-Simon Laplace. In the early 1800s Laplace had worked extensively to demonstrate the purely mechanical and predictable nature of planetary motion. He later extended this theory to the interaction of molecules. In the Laplacean view, molecules are just as subject to the laws of physical mechanics as the planets are. In theory, if we knew the position and velocity of each molecule, we could trace its path as it interacted with other molecules, and trace the course of the physical universe at the most fundamental level. Laplace envisioned a world of ever more precise prediction, where the laws of physical mechanics would be able to forecast nature in increasing detail and ever further into the future, a world where “the phenomena of nature can be reduced in the last analysis to actions at a distance between molecule and molecule.”

What Gödel did to the work of Russell and Whitehead, Heisenberg did to Laplace’s concept of causality. The Uncertainty Principle, though broadly applied and draped in metaphysical context, is a well-defined and elegantly simple statement of physical reality – namely, the combined accuracy of a measurement of an electron’s location and its momentum cannot vary far from a fixed value. The reason for this, viewed from the standpoint of classical physics, is that accurately measuring the position of an electron requires illuminating the electron with light of a very short wavelength. But the shorter the wavelength the greater the amount of energy that hits the electron, and the greater the energy hitting the electron the greater the impact on its velocity.

What is true in the subatomic sphere ends up being true – though with rapidly diminishing significance – for the macroscopic. Nothing can be measured with complete precision as to both location and velocity because the act of measuring alters the physical properties. The idea that if we know the present we can calculate the future was proven invalid – not because of a shortcoming in our knowledge of mechanics, but because the premise that we can perfectly know the present was proven wrong. These limits to measurement imply limits to prediction. After all, if we cannot know even the present with complete certainty, we cannot unfailingly predict the future. It was with this in mind that Heisenberg, ecstatic about his yet-to-be-published paper, exclaimed, “I think I have refuted the law of causality.”

The epistemological extrapolation of Heisenberg’s work was that the root of the problem was man – or, more precisely, man’s examination of nature, which inevitably impacts the natural phenomena under examination so that the phenomena cannot be objectively understood. Heisenberg’s principle was not something that was inherent in nature; it came from man’s examination of nature, from man becoming part of the experiment. (So in a way the Uncertainty Principle, like Gödel’s Undecidability Proposition, rested on self-referentiality.) While it did not directly refute Einstein’s assertion against the statistical nature of the predictions of quantum mechanics that “God does not play dice with the universe,” it did show that if there were a law of causality in nature, no one but God would ever be able to apply it. The implications of Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle were recognized immediately, and it became a simple metaphor reaching beyond quantum mechanics to the broader world.

This metaphor extends neatly into the world of financial markets. In the purely mechanistic universe of classical physics, we could apply Newtonian laws to project the future course of nature, if only we knew the location and velocity of every particle. In the world of finance, the elementary particles are the financial assets. In a purely mechanistic financial world, if we knew the position each investor has in each asset and the ability and willingness of liquidity providers to take on those assets in the event of a forced liquidation, we would be able to understand the market’s vulnerability. We would have an early-warning system for crises. We would know which firms are subject to a liquidity cycle, and which events might trigger that cycle. We would know which markets are being overrun by speculative traders, and thereby anticipate tactical correlations and shifts in the financial habitat. The randomness of nature and economic cycles might remain beyond our grasp, but the primary cause of market crisis, and the part of market crisis that is of our own making, would be firmly in hand.

The first step toward the Laplacean goal of complete knowledge is the advocacy by certain financial market regulators to increase the transparency of positions. Politically, that would be a difficult sell – as would any kind of increase in regulatory control. Practically, it wouldn’t work. Just as the atomic world turned out to be more complex than Laplace conceived, the financial world may be similarly complex and not reducible to a simple causality. The problems with position disclosure are many. Some financial instruments are complex and difficult to price, so it is impossible to measure precisely the risk exposure. Similarly, in hedge positions a slight error in the transmission of one part, or asynchronous pricing of the various legs of the strategy, will grossly misstate the total exposure. Indeed, the problems and inaccuracies in using position information to assess risk are exemplified by the fact that major investment banking firms choose to use summary statistics rather than position-by-position analysis for their firmwide risk management despite having enormous resources and computational power at their disposal.

Perhaps more importantly, position transparency also has implications for the efficient functioning of the financial markets beyond the practical problems involved in its implementation. The problems in the examination of elementary particles in the financial world are the same as in the physical world: Beyond the inherent randomness and complexity of the systems, there are simply limits to what we can know. To say that we do not know something is as much a challenge as it is a statement of the state of our knowledge. If we do not know something, that presumes that either it is not worth knowing or it is something that will be studied and eventually revealed. It is the hubris of man that all things are discoverable. But for all the progress that has been made, perhaps even more exciting than the rolling back of the boundaries of our knowledge is the identification of realms that can never be explored. A sign in Einstein’s Princeton office read, “Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts.”

The behavioral analogue to the Uncertainty Principle is obvious. There are many psychological inhibitions that lead people to behave differently when they are observed than when they are not. For traders it is a simple matter of dollars and cents that will lead them to behave differently when their trades are open to scrutiny. Beneficial though it may be for the liquidity demander and the investor, for the liquidity supplier trans- parency is bad. The liquidity supplier does not intend to hold the position for a long time, like the typical liquidity demander might. Like a market maker, the liquidity supplier will come back to the market to sell off the position – ideally when there is another investor who needs liquidity on the other side of the market. If other traders know the liquidity supplier’s positions, they will logically infer that there is a good likelihood these positions shortly will be put into the market. The other traders will be loath to be the first ones on the other side of these trades, or will demand more of a price concession if they do trade, knowing the overhang that remains in the market.

This means that increased transparency will reduce the amount of liquidity provided for any given change in prices. This is by no means a hypothetical argument. Frequently, even in the most liquid markets, broker-dealer market makers (liquidity providers) use brokers to enter their market bids rather than entering the market directly in order to preserve their anonymity.

The more information we extract to divine the behavior of traders and the resulting implications for the markets, the more the traders will alter their behavior. The paradox is that to understand and anticipate market crises, we must know positions, but knowing and acting on positions will itself generate a feedback into the market. This feedback often will reduce liquidity, making our observations less valuable and possibly contributing to a market crisis. Or, in rare instances, the observer/feedback loop could be manipulated to amass fortunes.

One might argue that the physical limits of knowledge asserted by Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle are critical for subatomic physics, but perhaps they are really just a curiosity for those dwelling in the macroscopic realm of the financial markets. We cannot measure an electron precisely, but certainly we still can “kind of know” the present, and if so, then we should be able to “pretty much” predict the future. Causality might be approximate, but if we can get it right to within a few wavelengths of light, that still ought to do the trick. The mathematical system may be demonstrably incomplete, and the world might not be pinned down on the fringes, but for all practical purposes the world can be known.

Unfortunately, while “almost” might work for horseshoes and hand grenades, 30 years after Gödel and Heisenberg yet a third limitation of our knowledge was in the wings, a limitation that would close the door on any attempt to block out the implications of microscopic uncertainty on predictability in our macroscopic world. Based on observations made by Edward Lorenz in the early 1960s and popularized by the so-called butterfly effect – the fanciful notion that the beating wings of a butterfly could change the predictions of an otherwise perfect weather forecasting system – this limitation arises because in some important cases immeasurably small errors can compound over time to limit prediction in the larger scale. Half a century after the limits of measurement and thus of physical knowledge were demonstrated by Heisenberg in the world of quantum mechanics, Lorenz piled on a result that showed how microscopic errors could propagate to have a stultifying impact in nonlinear dynamic systems. This limitation could come into the forefront only with the dawning of the computer age, because it is manifested in the subtle errors of computational accuracy.

The essence of the butterfly effect is that small perturbations can have large repercussions in massive, random forces such as weather. Edward Lorenz was testing and tweaking a model of weather dynamics on a rudimentary vacuum-tube computer. The program was based on a small system of simultaneous equations, but seemed to provide an inkling into the variability of weather patterns. At one point in his work, Lorenz decided to examine in more detail one of the solutions he had generated. To save time, rather than starting the run over from the beginning, he picked some intermediate conditions that had been printed out by the computer and used those as the new starting point. The values he typed in were the same as the values held in the original simulation at that point, so the results the simulation generated from that point forward should have been the same as in the original; after all, the computer was doing exactly the same operations. What he found was that as the simulated weather pattern progressed, the results of the new run diverged, first very slightly and then more and more markedly, from those of the first run. After a point, the new path followed a course that appeared totally unrelated to the original one, even though they had started at the same place.

Lorenz at first thought there was a computer glitch, but as he investigated further, he discovered the basis of a limit to knowledge that rivaled that of Heisenberg and Gödel. The problem was that the numbers he had used to restart the simulation had been reentered based on his printout from the earlier run, and the printout rounded the values to three decimal places while the computer carried the values to six decimal places. This rounding, clearly insignificant at first, promulgated a slight error in the next-round results, and this error grew with each new iteration of the program as it moved the simulation of the weather forward in time. The error doubled every four simulated days, so that after a few months the solutions were going their own separate ways. The slightest of changes in the initial conditions had traced out a wholly different pattern of weather.

Intrigued by his chance observation, Lorenz wrote an article entitled “Deterministic Nonperiodic Flow,” which stated that “nonperiodic solutions are ordinarily unstable with respect to small modifications, so that slightly differing initial states can evolve into considerably different states.” Translation: Long-range weather forecasting is worthless. For his application in the narrow scientific discipline of weather prediction, this meant that no matter how precise the starting measurements of weather conditions, there was a limit after which the residual imprecision would lead to unpredictable results, so that “long-range forecasting of specific weather conditions would be impossible.” And since this occurred in a very simple laboratory model of weather dynamics, it could only be worse in the more complex equations that would be needed to properly reflect the weather. Lorenz discovered the principle that would emerge over time into the field of chaos theory, where a deterministic system generated with simple nonlinear dynamics unravels into an unrepeated and apparently random path.

The simplicity of the dynamic system Lorenz had used suggests a far-reaching result: Because we cannot measure without some error (harking back to Heisenberg), for many dynamic systems our forecast errors will grow to the point that even an approximation will be out of our hands. We can run a purely mechanistic system that is designed with well-defined and apparently well-behaved equations, and it will move over time in ways that cannot be predicted and, indeed, that appear to be random. This gets us to Santa Fe.

The principal conceptual thread running through the Santa Fe research asks how apparently simple systems, like that discovered by Lorenz, can produce rich and complex results. Its method of analysis in some respects runs in the opposite direction of the usual path of scientific inquiry. Rather than taking the complexity of the world and distilling simplifying truths from it, the Santa Fe Institute builds a virtual world governed by simple equations that when unleashed explode into results that generate unexpected levels of complexity.

In economics and finance, institute’s agenda was to create artificial markets with traders and investors who followed simple and reasonable rules of behavior and to see what would happen. Some of the traders built into the model were trend followers, others bought or sold based on the difference between the market price and perceived value, and yet others traded at random times in response to liquidity needs. The simulations then printed out the paths of prices for the various market instruments. Qualitatively, these paths displayed all the richness and variation we observe in actual markets, replete with occasional bubbles and crashes. The exercises did not produce positive results for predicting or explaining market behavior, but they did illustrate that it is not hard to create a market that looks on the surface an awful lot like a real one, and to do so with actors who are following very simple rules. The mantra is that simple systems can give rise to complex, even unpredictable dynamics, an interesting converse to the point that much of the complexity of our world can – with suitable assumptions – be made to appear simple, summarized with concise physical laws and equations.

The systems explored by Lorenz were deterministic. They were governed definitively and exclusively by a set of equations where the value in every period could be unambiguously and precisely determined based on the values of the previous period. And the systems were not very complex. By contrast, whatever the set of equations are that might be divined to govern the financial world, they are not simple and, furthermore, they are not deterministic. There are random shocks from political and economic events and from the shifting preferences and attitudes of the actors. If we cannot hope to know the course of the deterministic systems like fluid mechanics, then no level of detail will allow us to forecast the long-term course of the financial world, buffeted as it is by the vagaries of the economy and the whims of psychology.

Kant and Non-Euclidean Geometries. Thought of the Day 94.0

ei5yC

The argument that non-Euclidean geometries contradict Kant’s doctrine on the nature of space apparently goes back to Hermann Helmholtz and was retaken by several philosophers of science such as Hans Reichenbach (The Philosophy of Space and Time) who devoted much work to this subject. In a essay written in 1870, Helmholtz argued that the axioms of geometry are not a priori synthetic judgments (in the sense given by Kant), since they can be subjected to experiments. Given that Euclidian geometry is not the only possible geometry, as was believed in Kant’s time, it should be possible to determine by means of measurements whether, for instance, the sum of the three angles of a triangle is 180 degrees or whether two straight parallel lines always keep the same distance among them. If it were not the case, then it would have been demonstrated experimentally that space is not Euclidean. Thus the possibility of verifying the axioms of geometry would prove that they are empirical and not given a priori.

Helmholtz developed his own version of a non-Euclidean geometry on the basis of what he believed to be the fundamental condition for all geometries: “the possibility of figures moving without change of form or size”; without this possibility, it would be impossible to define what a measurement is. According to Helmholtz:

the axioms of geometry are not concerned with space-relations only but also at the same time with the mechanical deportment of solidest bodies in motion.

Nevertheless, he was aware that a strict Kantian might argue that the rigidity of bodies is an a priori property, but

then we should have to maintain that the axioms of geometry are not synthetic propositions… they would merely define what qualities and deportment a body must have to be recognized as rigid.

At this point, it is worth noticing that Helmholtz’s formulation of geometry is a rudimentary version of what was later developed as the theory of Lie groups. As for the transport of rigid bodies, it is well known that rigid motion cannot be defined in the framework of the theory of relativity: since there is no absolute simultaneity of events, it is impossible to move all parts of a material body in a coordinated and simultaneous way. What is defined as the length of a body depends on the reference frame from where it is observed. Thus, it is meaningless to invoke the rigidity of bodies as the basis of a geometry that pretend to describe the real world; it is only in the mathematical realm that the rigid displacement of a figure can be defined in terms of what mathematicians call a congruence.

Arguments similar to those of Helmholtz were given by Reichenbach in his intent to refute Kant’s doctrine on the nature of space and time. Essentially, the argument boils down to the following: Kant assumed that the axioms of geometry are given a priori and he only had classical geometry in mind, Einstein demonstrated that space is not Euclidean and that this could be verified empirically, ergo Kant was wrong. However, Kant did not state that space must be Euclidean; instead, he argued that it is a pure form of intuition. As such, space has no physical reality of its own, and therefore it is meaningless to ascribe physical properties to it. Actually, Kant never mentioned Euclid directly in his work, but he did refer many times to the physics of Newton, which is based on classical geometry. Kant had in mind the axioms of this geometry which is a most powerful tool of Newtonian mechanics. Actually, he did not even exclude the possibility of other geometries, as can be seen in his early speculations on the dimensionality of space.

The important point missed by Reichenbach is that Riemannian geometry is necessarily based on Euclidean geometry. More precisely, a Riemannian space must be considered as locally Euclidean in order to be able to define basic concepts such as distance and parallel transport; this is achieved by defining a flat tangent space at every point, and then extending all properties of this flat space to the globally curved space (Luther Pfahler Eisenhart Riemannian Geometry). To begin with, the structure of a Riemannian space is given by its metric tensor gμν from which the (differential) length is defined as ds2 = gμν dxμ dxν; but this is nothing less than a generalization of the usual Pythagoras theorem in Euclidean space. As for the fundamental concept of parallel transport, it is taken directly from its analogue in Euclidean space: it refers to the transport of abstract (not material, as Helmholtz believed) figures in such a space. Thus Riemann’s geometry cannot be free of synthetic a priori propositions because it is entirely based upon concepts such as length and congruence taken form Euclid. We may conclude that Euclids geometry is the condition of possibility for a more general geometry, such as Riemann’s, simply because it is the natural geometry adapted to our understanding; Kant would say that it is our form of grasping space intuitively. The possibility of constructing abstract spaces does not refute Kant’s thesis; on the contrary, it reinforces it.

Anti-Haecceitism. Thought of the Day 45.0

Untitled

; Conc is the property of being concurrent, Red is the property of definiteness, and Heavy is the property of vividness.

In the language of modern metaphysics, w and w′ above are qualitatively indiscernible. And anti-haecceitism is the doctrine which says that qualitatively indiscernible worlds are identical. So, we immediately see a problem looming.

But why accept anti-haecceitism? The best reasons focus on physics. Just as the debate between Leibniz and Newton’s followers focused on physics, the strongest arguments still against haecceitism come from physics. Anti-haecceitism as understood here concerns the identity of indiscernible (“isomorphic”) worlds or “situations” or “states”. In many areas of physics, including statistical physics, spacetime physics and quantum theory, the physics tells us that certain “indiscernible situations” are in fact literally identical.

A simple example comes from the statistical physics of “indiscernibile particles”. Consider a box, partitioned into Left-side and Right-side (L and R), and containing two indiscernible particles. One naively thinks this permits four distinct states or situations: i.e., both in L; both in R, and one in L and one in R. However, physics tells us that there are only three states, not four, and we might denote these: S2,0, S1,1, S0,2. The state S1,1, i.e., where “one is L and one is R”, is a single state; there are not two distinct possibilities. The correct description of S1,1 uses existential quantifiers:

∃x ∃y (x ≠ y ∧ Lx ∧ Ry)

One can (syntactically) introduce labels for the particles, say a, b. One can do this in two ways, to obtain:

a ≠ b ∧ La ∧ Rb

b ≠ a ∧ Lb ∧ Ra

But this labelling is purely representational, and not in any way fixed by the physical state S1,1 itself. So, there are distinct indiscernible objects in “situations” or states.

From spacetime physics, consider the principle sometimes called “Leibniz equivalence” (Norton). A formulation (but under a different name) is given in Wald’s monograph General Relativity. Wald’s formulation of Leibniz equivalence is, essentially, this:

isomorphic spacetime models represent the same physical world.

For example, let

S = (M, g, . . . )

be a spacetime model with carrier set |M| of points. (i.e., M is the underlying manifold.) Then Leibniz Equivalence implies:

If π : |M| → |M| is any bijection, then πS and S represent

the same world. There are many other examples, including examples from quantum theory. Consequently, independently of our pre-theoretic considerations concerning modality, it seems to me that our best physics – statistical physics, relativity and quantum theory – is telling us that anti-haecceitism is true: given a structure A which represents a world w, any permuted copy πA should somehow represent the same world, w.

Whitehead’s Anti-Substantivilism, or Process & Reality as a Cosmology to-be. Thought of the Day 39.0

whiteheads-process-philosophy

Treating “stuff” as some kind of metaphysical primitive is mere substantivilism – and fundamentally question-begging. One has replaced an extra-theoretic referent of the wave-function (unless one defers to some quasi-literalist reading of the nature of the stochastic amplitude function ζ[X(t)] as somehow characterizing something akin to being a “density of stuff”, and moreover the logic and probability (Born Rules) must ultimately be obtained from experimentally obtained scattering amplitudes) with something at least as equally mystifying, as the argument against decoherence goes on to show:

In other words, you have a state vector which gives rise to an outcome of a measurement and you cannot understand why this is so according to your theory.

As a response to Platonism, one can likewise read Process and Reality as essentially anti-substantivilist.

Consider, for instance:

Those elements of our experience which stand out clearly and distinctly [giving rise to our substantial intuitions] in our consciousness are not its basic facts, [but] they are . . . late derivatives in the concrescence of an experiencing subject. . . .Neglect of this law [implies that] . . . [e]xperience has been explained in a thoroughly topsy-turvy fashion, the wrong end first (161).

To function as an object is to be a determinant of the definiteness of an actual occurrence [occasion] (243).

The phenomenological ontology offered in Process and Reality is richly nuanced (including metaphysical primitives such as prehensions, occasions, and their respectively derivative notions such as causal efficacy, presentational immediacy, nexus, etc.). None of these suggest metaphysical notions of substance (i.e., independently existing subjects) as a primitive. The case can perhaps be made concerning the discussion of eternal objects, but such notions as discussed vis-à-vis the process of concrescence are obviously not metaphysically primitive notions. Certainly these metaphysical primitives conform in a more nuanced and articulated manner to aspects of process ontology. “Embedding” – as the notion of emergence is a crucial constituent in the information-theoretic, quantum-topological, and geometric accounts. Moreover, concerning the issue of relativistic covariance, it is to be regarded that Process and Reality is really a sketch of a cosmology-to-be . . . [in the spirit of ] Kant [who] built on the obsolete ideas of space, time, and matter of Euclid and Newton. Whitehead set out to suggest what a philosophical cosmology might be that builds on Newton.

Theories of Fields: Gravitational Field as “the More Equal Among Equals”

large-scalestructureoflightdistributionintheuniverse

Descartes, in Le Monde, gave a fully relational definition of localization (space) and motion. According to Descartes, there is no “empty space”. There are only objects, and it makes sense to say that an object A is contiguous to an object B. The “location” of an object A is the set of the objects to which A is contiguous. “Motion” is change in location. That is, when we say that A moves we mean that A goes from the contiguity of an object B to the contiguity of an object C3. A consequence of this relationalism is that there is no meaning in saying “A moves”, except if we specify with respect to which other objects (B, C,. . . ) it is moving. Thus, there is no “absolute” motion. This is the same definition of space, location, and motion, that we find in Aristotle. Aristotle insists on this point, using the example of the river that moves with respect to the ground, in which there is a boat that moves with respect to the water, on which there is a man that walks with respect to the boat . . . . Aristotle’s relationalism is tempered by the fact that there is, after all, a preferred set of objects that we can use as universal reference: the Earth at the center of the universe, the celestial spheres, the fixed stars. Thus, we can say, if we desire so, that something is moving “in absolute terms”, if it moves with respect to the Earth. Of course, there are two preferred frames in ancient cosmology: the one of the Earth and the one of the fixed stars; the two rotates with respect to each other. It is interesting to notice that the thinkers of the middle ages did not miss this point, and discussed whether we can say that the stars rotate around the Earth, rather than being the Earth that rotates under the fixed stars. Buridan concluded that, on ground of reason, in no way one view is more defensible than the other. For Descartes, who writes, of course, after the great Copernican divide, the Earth is not anymore the center of the Universe and cannot offer a naturally preferred definition of stillness. According to malignants, Descartes, fearing the Church and scared by what happened to Galileo’s stubborn defense of the idea that “the Earth moves”, resorted to relationalism, in Le Monde, precisely to be able to hold Copernicanism without having to commit himself to the absolute motion of the Earth!

Relationalism, namely the idea that motion can be defined only in relation to other objects, should not be confused with Galilean relativity. Galilean relativity is the statement that “rectilinear uniform motion” is a priori indistinguishable from stasis. Namely that velocity (but just velocity!), is relative to other bodies. Relationalism holds that any motion (however zigzagging) is a priori indistinguishable from stasis. The very formulation of Galilean relativity requires a nonrelational definition of motion (“rectilinear and uniform” with respect to what?).

Newton took a fully different course. He devotes much energy to criticise Descartes’ relationalism, and to introduce a different view. According to him, space exists. It exists even if there are no bodies in it. Location of an object is the part of space that the object occupies. Motion is change of location. Thus, we can say whether an object moves or not, irrespectively from surrounding objects. Newton argues that the notion of absolute motion is necessary for constructing mechanics. His famous discussion of the experiment of the rotating bucket in the Principia is one of the arguments to prove that motion is absolute.

This point has often raised confusion because one of the corollaries of Newtonian mechanics is that there is no detectable preferred referential frame. Therefore the notion of absolute velocity is, actually, meaningless, in Newtonian mechanics. The important point, however, is that in Newtonian mechanics velocity is relative, but any other feature of motion is not relative: it is absolute. In particular, acceleration is absolute. It is acceleration that Newton needs to construct his mechanics; it is acceleration that the bucket experiment is supposed to prove to be absolute, against Descartes. In a sense, Newton overdid a bit, introducing the notion of absolute position and velocity (perhaps even just for explanatory purposes?). Many people have later criticised Newton for his unnecessary use of absolute position. But this is irrelevant for the present discussion. The important point here is that Newtonian mechanics requires absolute acceleration, against Aristotle and against Descartes. Precisely the same does special relativistic mechanics.

Similarly, Newton introduced absolute time. Newtonian space and time or, in modern terms, spacetime, are like a stage over which the action of physics takes place, the various dynamical entities being the actors. The key feature of this stage, Newtonian spacetime, is its metrical structure. Curves have length, surfaces have area, regions of spacetime have volume. Spacetime points are at fixed distance the one from the other. Revealing, or measuring, this distance, is very simple. It is sufficient to take a rod and put it between two points. Any two points which are one rod apart are at the same distance. Using modern terminology, physical space is a linear three-dimensional (3d) space, with a preferred metric. On this space there exist preferred coordinates xi, i = 1,2,3, in terms of which the metric is just δij. Time is described by a single variable t. The metric δij determines lengths, areas and volumes and defines what we mean by straight lines in space. If a particle deviates with respect to this straight line, it is, according to Newton, accelerating. It is not accelerating with respect to this or that dynamical object: it is accelerating in absolute terms.

Special relativity changes this picture only marginally, loosing up the strict distinction between the “space” and the “time” components of spacetime. In Newtonian spacetime, space is given by fixed 3d planes. In special relativistic spacetime, which 3d plane you call space depends on your state of motion. Spacetime is now a 4d manifold M with a flat Lorentzian metric ημν. Again, there are preferred coordinates xμ, μ = 0, 1, 2, 3, in terms of which ημν = diag[1, −1, −1, −1]. This tensor, ημν , enters all physical equations, representing the determinant influence of the stage and of its metrical properties on the motion of anything. Absolute acceleration is deviation of the world line of a particle from the straight lines defined by ημν. The only essential novelty with special relativity is that the “dynamical objects”, or “bodies” moving over spacetime now include the fields as well. Example: a violent burst of electromagnetic waves coming from a distant supernova has traveled across space and has reached our instruments. For the rest, the Newtonian construct of a fixed background stage over which physics happen is not altered by special relativity.

The profound change comes with general relativity (GTR). The central discovery of GR, can be enunciated in three points. One of these is conceptually simple, the other two are tremendous. First, the gravitational force is mediated by a field, very much like the electromagnetic field: the gravitational field. Second, Newton’s spacetime, the background stage that Newton introduced introduced, against most of the earlier European tradition, and the gravitational field, are the same thing. Third, the dynamics of the gravitational field, of the other fields such as the electromagnetic field, and any other dynamical object, is fully relational, in the Aristotelian-Cartesian sense. Let me illustrate these three points.

First, the gravitational field is represented by a field on spacetime, gμν(x), just like the electromagnetic field Aμ(x). They are both very concrete entities: a strong electromagnetic wave can hit you and knock you down; and so can a strong gravitational wave. The gravitational field has independent degrees of freedom, and is governed by dynamical equations, the Einstein equations.

Second, the spacetime metric ημν disappears from all equations of physics (recall it was ubiquitous). At its place – we are instructed by GTR – we must insert the gravitational field gμν(x). This is a spectacular step: Newton’s background spacetime was nothing but the gravitational field! The stage is promoted to be one of the actors. Thus, in all physical equations one now sees the direct influence of the gravitational field. How can the gravitational field determine the metrical properties of things, which are revealed, say, by rods and clocks? Simply, the inter-atomic separation of the rods’ atoms, and the frequency of the clock’s pendulum are determined by explicit couplings of the rod’s and clock’s variables with the gravitational field gμν(x), which enters the equations of motion of these variables. Thus, any measurement of length, area or volume is, in reality, a measurement of features of the gravitational field.

But what is really formidable in GTR, the truly momentous novelty, is the third point: the Einstein equations, as well as all other equations of physics appropriately modified according to GTR instructions, are fully relational in the Aristotelian-Cartesian sense. This point is independent from the previous one. Let me give first a conceptual, then a technical account of it.

The point is that the only physically meaningful definition of location that makes physical sense within GTR is relational. GTR describes the world as a set of interacting fields and, possibly, other objects. One of these interacting fields is gμν(x). Motion can be defined only as positioning and displacements of these dynamical objects relative to each other.

To describe the motion of a dynamical object, Newton had to assume that acceleration is absolute, namely it is not relative to this or that other dynamical object. Rather, it is relative to a background space. Faraday, Maxwell and Einstein extended the notion of “dynamical object”: the stuff of the world is fields, not just bodies. Finally, GTR tells us that the background space is itself one of these fields. Thus, the circle is closed, and we are back to relationalism: Newton’s motion with respect to space is indeed motion with respect to a dynamical object: the gravitational field.

All this is coded in the active diffeomorphism invariance (diff invariance) of GR. Active diff invariance should not be confused with passive diff invariance, or invariance under change of coordinates. GTR can be formulated in a coordinate free manner, where there are no coordinates, and no changes of coordinates. In this formulation, there field equations are still invariant under active diffs. Passive diff invariance is a property of a formulation of a dynamical theory, while active diff invariance is a property of the dynamical theory itself. A field theory is formulated in manner invariant under passive diffs (or change of coordinates), if we can change the coordinates of the manifold, re-express all the geometric quantities (dynamical and non-dynamical) in the new coordinates, and the form of the equations of motion does not change. A theory is invariant under active diffs, when a smooth displacement of the dynamical fields (the dynamical fields alone) over the manifold, sends solutions of the equations of motion into solutions of the equations of motion. Distinguishing a truly dynamical field, namely a field with independent degrees of freedom, from a nondynamical filed disguised as dynamical (such as a metric field g with the equations of motion Riemann[g]=0) might require a detailed analysis (for instance, Hamiltonian) of the theory. Because active diff invariance is a gauge, the physical content of GTR is expressed only by those quantities, derived from the basic dynamical variables, which are fully independent from the points of the manifold.

In introducing the background stage, Newton introduced two structures: a spacetime manifold, and its non-dynamical metric structure. GTR gets rid of the non-dynamical metric, by replacing it with the gravitational field. More importantly, it gets rid of the manifold, by means of active diff invariance. In GTR, the objects of which the world is made do not live over a stage and do not live on spacetime: they live, so to say, over each other’s shoulders.

Of course, nothing prevents us, if we wish to do so, from singling out the gravitational field as “the more equal among equals”, and declaring that location is absolute in GTR, because it can be defined with respect to it. But this can be done within any relationalism: we can always single out a set of objects, and declare them as not-moving by definition. The problem with this attitude is that it fully misses the great Einsteinian insight: that Newtonian spacetime is just one field among the others. More seriously, this attitude sends us into a nightmare when we have to deal with the motion of the gravitational field itself (which certainly “moves”: we are spending millions for constructing gravity wave detectors to detect its tiny vibrations). There is no absolute referent of motion in GTR: the dynamical fields “move” with respect to each other.

Notice that the third step was not easy for Einstein, and came later than the previous two. Having well understood the first two, but still missing the third, Einstein actively searched for non-generally covariant equations of motion for the gravitational field between 1912 and 1915. With his famous “hole argument” he had convinced himself that generally covariant equations of motion (and therefore, in this context, active diffeomorphism invariance) would imply a truly dramatic revolution with respect to the Newtonian notions of space and time. In 1912 he was not able to take this profoundly revolutionary step, but in 1915 he took this step, and found what Landau calls “the most beautiful of the physical theories”.

Geometric Structure, Causation, and Instrumental Rip-Offs, or, How Does a Physicist Read Off the Physical Ontology From the Mathematical Apparatus?

maxresdefault6

The benefits of the various structuralist approaches in the philosophy of mathematics is that it allows both the mathematical realist and anti-realist to use mathematical structures without obligating a Platonism about mathematical objects, such as numbers – one can simply accept that, say, numbers exist as places in a larger structure, like the natural number system, rather than as some sort of independently existing, transcendent entities. Accordingly, a variation on a well-known mathematical structure, such as exchanging the natural numbers “3” and “7”, does not create a new structure, but merely gives the same structure “relabeled” (with “7” now playing the role of “3”, and visa-verse). This structuralist tactic is familiar to spacetime theorists, for not only has it been adopted by substantivalists to undermine an ontological commitment to the independent existence of the manifold points of M, but it is tacitly contained in all relational theories, since they would count the initial embeddings of all material objects and their relations in a spacetime as isomorphic.

A critical question remains, however: Since spacetime structure is geometric structure, how does the Structural Realism (SR) approach to spacetime differ in general from mathematical structuralism? Is the theory just mathematical structuralism as it pertains to geometry (or, more accurately, differential geometry), rather than arithmetic or the natural number series? While it may sound counter-intuitive, the SR theorist should answer this question in the affirmative – the reason being, quite simply, that the puzzle of how mathematical spacetime structures apply to reality, or are exemplified in the real world, is identical to the problem of how all mathematical structures are exemplified in the real world. Philosophical theories of mathematics, especially nominalist theories, commonly take as their starting point the fact that certain mathematical structures are exemplified in our common experience, while other are excluded. To take a simple example, a large collection of coins can exemplify the standard algebraic structure that includes commutative multiplication (e.g., 2 x 3 = 3 x 2), but not the more limited structure associated with, say, Hamilton’s quaternion algebra (where multiplication is non-commutative; 2 x 3 ≠ 3 x 2). In short, not all mathematical structures find real-world exemplars (although, for the minimal nominalists, these structures can be given a modal construction). The same holds for spacetime theories: empirical evidence currently favors the mathematical structures utilized in General Theory of Relativity, such that the physical world exemplifies, say, g, but a host of other geometric structures, such as the flat Newtonian metric, h, are not exemplified.

The critic will likely respond that there is substantial difference between the mathematical structures that appear in physical theories and the mathematics relevant to everyday experience. For the former, and not the latter, the mathematical structures will vary along with the postulated physical forces and laws; and this explains why there are a number of competing spacetime theories, and thus different mathematical structures, compatible with the same evidence: in Poincaré fashion, Newtonian rivals to GTR can still employ h as long as special distorting forces are introduced. Yet, underdetermination can plague even simple arithmetical experience, a fact well known in the philosophy of mathematics and in measurement theory. For example, in Charles Chihara, an assessment of the empiricist interpretation of mathematics prompts the following conclusion: “the fact that adding 5 gallons of alcohol to 2 gallons of water does not yield 7 gallons of liquid does not refute any law of logic or arithmetic [“5+2=7”] but only a mistaken physical assumption about the conservation of liquids when mixed”. While obviously true, Chihara could have also mentioned that, in order to capture our common-sense intuitions about mathematics, the application of the mathematical structure in such cases requires coordination with a physical measuring convention that preserves the identity of each individual entity, or unit, both before and after the mixing. In the mixing experiment, perhaps atoms should serve as the objects coordinated to the natural number series, since the stability of individual atoms would prevent the sort of blurring together of the individuals (“gallon of liquid”) that led to the arithmetically deviant results. By choosing a different coordination, the mixing experiment can thus be judged to uphold, or exemplify, the statement “5+2=7”. What all of this helps to show is that mathematics, for both complex geometrical spacetime structures and simple non-geometrical structures, cannot be empirically applied without stipulating physical hypotheses and/or conventions about the objects that model the mathematics. Consequently, as regards real world applications, there is no difference in kind between the mathematical structures that are exemplified in spacetime physics and in everyday observation; rather, they only differ in their degree of abstractness and the sophistication of the physical hypotheses or conventions required for their application. Both in the simple mathematical case and in the spacetime case, moreover, the decision to adopt a particular convention or hypothesis is normally based on a judgment of its overall viability and consistency with our total scientific view (a.k.a., the scientific method): we do not countenance a world where macroscopic objects can, against the known laws of physics, lose their identity by blending into one another (as in the addition example), nor do we sanction otherwise undetectable universal forces simply for the sake of saving a cherished metric.

Another significant shared feature of spacetime and mathematical structure is the apparent absence of causal powers or effects, even though the relevant structures seem to play some sort of “explanatory role” in the physical phenomena. To be more precise, consider the example of an “arithmetically-challenged” consumer who lacks an adequate grasp of addition: if he were to ask for an explanation of the event of adding five coins to another seven, and why it resulted in twelve, one could simply respond by stating, “5+7=12”, which is an “explanation” of sorts, although not in the scientific sense. On the whole, philosophers since Plato have found it difficult to offer a satisfactory account of the relationship between general mathematical structures (arithmetic/”5+7=12”) and the physical manifestations of those structures (the outcome of the coin adding). As succinctly put by Michael Liston:

Why should appeals to mathematical objects [numbers, etc.] whose very nature is non-physical make any contribution to sound inferences whose conclusions apply to physical objects?

One response to the question can be comfortably dismissed, nevertheless: mathematical structures did not cause the outcome of the coin adding, for this would seem to imply that numbers (or “5+7=12”) somehow had a mysterious, platonic influence over the course of material affairs.

In the context of the spacetime ontology debate, there has been a corresponding reluctance on the part of both sophisticated substantivalists and (R2, the rejection of substantivalist) relationists to explain how space and time differentiate the inertial and non-inertial motions of bodies; and, in particular, what role spacetime plays in the origins of non-inertial force effects. Returning once more to our universe with a single rotating body, and assuming that no other forces or causes, it would be somewhat peculiar to claim that the causal agent responsible for the observed force effects of the motion is either substantival spacetime or the relative motions of bodies (or, more accurately, the motion of bodies relative to a privileged reference frame, or possible trajectories, etc.). Yet, since it is the motion of the body relative to either substantival space, other bodies/fields, privileged frames, possible trajectories, etc., that explains (or identifies, defines) the presence of the non-inertial force effects of the acceleration of the lone rotating body, both theories are therefore in serious need of an explanation of the relationship between space and these force effects. The strict (R1) relationists face a different, if not less daunting, task; for they must reinterpret the standard formulations of, say, Newtonian theory in such a way that the rotation of our lone body in empty space, or the rotation of the entire universe, is not possible. To accomplish this goal, the (R1) relationist must draw upon different mathematical resources and adopt various physical assumptions that may, or may not, ultimately conflict with empirical evidence: for example, they must stipulate that the angular momentum of the entire universe is 0.

All participants in the spacetime ontology debate are confronted with the nagging puzzle of understanding the relationship between, on the one hand, the empirical behavior of bodies, especially the non-inertial forces, and, on the other hand, the apparently non-empirical, mathematical properties of the spacetime structure that are somehow inextricably involved in any adequate explanation of those non-inertial forces – namely, for the substantivalists and (R2) relationists, the affine structure,  that lays down the geodesic paths of inertially moving bodies. The task of explaining this connection between the empirical and abstract mathematical or quantitative aspects of spacetime theories is thus identical to elucidating the mathematical problem of how numbers relate to experience (e.g., how “5+7=12” figures in our experience of adding coins). Likewise, there exists a parallel in the fact that most substantivalists and (R2) relationists seem to shy away from positing a direct causal connection between material bodies and space (or privileged frames, possible trajectories, etc.) in order to account for non-inertial force effects, just as a mathematical realist would recoil from ascribing causal powers to numbers so as to explain our common experience of adding and subtracting.

An insight into the non-causal, mathematical role of spacetime structures can also be of use to the (R2) relationist in defending against the charge of instrumentalism, as, for instance, in deflecting Earman’s criticisms of Sklar’s “absolute acceleration” concept. Conceived as a monadic property of bodies, Sklar’s absolute acceleration does not accept the common understanding of acceleration as a species of relative motion, whether that motion is relative to substantival space, other bodies, or privileged reference frames. Earman’s objection to this strategy centers upon the utilization of spacetime structures in describing the primitive acceleration property: “it remains magic that the representative [of Sklar’s absolute acceleration] is neo-Newtonian acceleration

d2xi/dt2 + Γijk (dxj/dt)(dxk/dt) —– (1)

[i.e., the covariant derivative, or ∇ in coordinate form]”. Ultimately, Earman’s critique of Sklar’s (R2) relationism would seem to cut against all sophisticated (R2) hypotheses, for he seems to regard the exercise of these richer spacetime structures, like ∇, as tacitly endorsing the absolute/substantivalist side of the dispute:

..the Newtonian apparatus can be used to make the predictions and afterwards discarded as a convenient fiction, but this ploy is hardly distinguishable from instrumentalism, which, taken to its logical conclusion, trivializes the absolute-relationist debate.

The weakness of Earman’s argument should be readily apparent—since, to put it bluntly, does the equivalent use of mathematical statements, such as “5+7=12”, likewise obligate the mathematician to accept a realist conception of numbers (such that they exist independently of all exemplifying systems)? Yet, if the straightforward employment of mathematics does not entail either a realist or nominalist theory of mathematics (as most mathematicians would likely agree), then why must the equivalent use of the geometric structures of spacetime physics, e.g., ∇ require a substantivalist conception of ∇ as opposed to an (R2) relationist conception of ∇? Put differently, does a substantivalist commitment to whose overall function is to determine the straight-line trajectories of Neo-Newtonian spacetime, also necessitate a substantivalist commitment to its components, such as the vector d/dt along with its limiting process and mapping into ℜ? In short, how does a physicist read off the physical ontology from the mathematical apparatus? A non-instrumental interpretation of some component of the theory’s quantitative structure is often justified if that component can be given a plausible causal role (as in subatomic physics)—but, as noted above, ∇ does not appear to cause anything in spacetime theories. All told, Earman’s argument may prove too much, for if we accept his reasoning at face value, then the introduction of any mathematical or quantitative device that is useful in describing or measuring physical events would saddle the ontology with a bizarre type of entity (e.g., gross national product, average household family, etc.). A nice example of a geometric structure that provides a similarly useful explanatory function, but whose substantive existence we would be inclined to reject as well, is provided by Dieks’ example of a three-dimensional colour solid:

Different colours and their shades can be represented in various ways; one way is as points on a 3-dimensional colour solid. But the proposal to regard this ‘colour space’ as something substantive, needed to ground the concept of colour, would be absurd.

 

Local Gauge Transformations in Locally Gauge Invariant Relativistic Field Theory

440px-Star_collapse_to_black_hole

The question arises of whether local space-time symmetries – arbitrary co-ordinate transformations that leave the explicit form of the equations of motion unaffected – also have an active interpretation. As in the case of local gauge symmetry, it has been argued in the literature that the introduction of a force is required to ‘restore’ local symmetry.  In the case of arbitrary co-ordinate transformations, the force invoked is gravity. Once again, we believe that the arguments (though seductive) are wrong, and that it is important to see why. Kosso’s discussion of arbitrary coordinate transformations is analogous to his argument with respect to local gauge transformations. He writes:

Observing this symmetry requires comparing experimental outcomes between two reference frames that are in variable relative motion, frames that are relatively accelerating or rotating….One can, in principle, observe that this sort of transformation has occurred. … just look out of the window and you can see if you are speeding up or turning with respect to some object that defines a coordinate system in the reference frame of the ground…Now do the experiments to see if the invariance is true. Do the same experiments in the original reference frame that is stationary on the ground, and again in the accelerating reference frame of the train, and see if the physics is the same. One can run the same experiments, with mechanical forces or with light and electromagnetic forces, and observe the results, so the invariance should be observable…But when the experiments are done, the invariance is not directly observed. Spurious forces appear in the accelerating system, objects move spontaneously, light bends, and so on. … The physics is different.

In other words, if we place ourselves at rest first in an inertial reference frame, and then in a non-inertial reference frame, our observations will be distinguishable. For example, in the non-inertial reference frame objects that are seemingly force-free will appear to accelerate, and so we will have to introduce extra, ‘spurious’, forces to account for this accelerated motion. The transformation described by Kosso is clearly not a symmetry transformation. Despite that, his claim appears to be that if we move to General Relativity, this transformation becomes a symmetry transformation. In order to assess this claim, let’s begin by considering Kosso’s experiment from the point of view of classical physics.

Suppose that we describe these observations using Newtonian physics and Maxwell’s equations. We would not be surprised that our descriptions differ depending on the choice of coordinate system: arbitrary coordinate transformations are not symmetries of the Newtonian and Maxwell equations of motion as usually expressed. Nevertheless, we are free to re-write Newtonian and Maxwellian physics in generally covariant form. But notice: the arbitrary coordinate transformations now apply not just to the Newtonian particles and the Maxwellian electromagnetic fields, but also to the metric, and this is necessary for general covariance.

Kosso’s example is given in terms of passive transformations – transformations of the coordinate systems in which we re-coordinatise the fields. In the Kosso experiment, however, we re-coordinatise the matter fields without re-coordinatising the metric field. This is not achieved by a mere coordinate transformation in generally covariant classical theory: a passive arbitrary coordinate transformation induces a re-coordinatisation of not only the matter fields but also the metric. The two states described by Kosso are not related by an arbitrary coordinate transformation in generally covariant classical theory. Further, such a coordinate transformation applied to only the matter and electromagnetic fields is not a symmetry of the equations of Newtonian and Maxwellian physics, regardless of whether those equations are written in generally covariant form.

Suppose that we use General Relativity to describe the above observations. Kosso suggests that in General Relativity the observations made in an inertial reference frame will indeed be related by a symmetry transformation to those made in a non-inertial reference frame. He writes:

The invariance can be restored by revising the physics, by adding a specific dynamical principle. This is why the local symmetry is a dynamical symmetry. We can add to the physics a claim about a specific force that restores the invariance. It is a force that exactly compensates for the local transform. In the case of the general theory of relativity the dynamical principle is the principle of equivalence, and the force is gravity. … With gravity included in the physics and with the windows of the train shuttered, there is no way to tell if the transformation, the acceleration, has taken place. That is, there is now no difference in the outcome of experiments between the transformed and untransformed systems. The force pulling objects to the back of the train could just as well be gravity. Thus the physics, all things including gravity considered, is invariant from one locally transformed frame to the next. The symmetry is restored.

This analysis mixes together the equivalence principle with the meaning of invariance under arbitrary coordinate transformations in a way which seems to us to be confused, with the consequence that the account of local symmetry in General Relativity is mistaken.

Einstein’s field equations are covariant under arbitrary smooth coordinate transformations. However, as with generally covariant Newtonian physics, these symmetry transformations are transformations of the matter fields (such as particles and electromagnetic radiation) combined with transformations of the metric. Kosso’s example, as we have already emphasised, re-coordinatises the matter fields without re-coordinatising the metric field. So, the two states described by Kosso are not related by an arbitrary coordinate transformation even in General Relativity. We can put the point vividly by locating ourselves at the origin of the coordinate system: I will always be able to tell whether the train, myself, and its other contents are all freely falling together, or whether there is a relative acceleration of the other contents relative to the train and me (in which case the other contents would appear to be flung around). This is completely independent of what coordinate system I use – my conclusion is the same regardless of whether I use a coordinate system at rest with respect to the train or one that is accelerating arbitrarily. (This coordinate independence is, of course, the symmetry that Kosso sought in the opening quotation above, but his analysis is mistaken.)

What, then, of the equivalence principle? The Kosso transformation leads to a physically and observationally distinct scenario, and the principle of equivalence is not relevant to the difference between those scenarios. What the principle of equivalence tells us is that the effect in the second scenario, where the contents of the train appear to accelerate to the back of the train, may be due to acceleration of the train in the absence of a gravitational field, or due to the presence of a gravitational field in which the contents of the train are in free fall but the train is not. Mere coordinate transformations cannot be used to bring real physical forces in and out of existence.

It is perhaps worthwhile briefly indicating the analogy between this case and the gauge case. Active arbitrary coordinate transformations in General Relativity involve transformations of both the matter fields and the metric, and they are symmetry transformations having no observable consequences. Coordinate transformations applied to the matter fields alone are no more symmetry transformations in General Relativity than they are in Newtonian physics (whether written in generally covariant form or not). Such transformations do have observational consequences. Analogously, local gauge transformations in locally gauge invariant relativistic field theory are transformations of both the particle fields and the gauge fields, and they are symmetry transformations having no observable consequences. Local phase transformations alone (i.e. local gauge transformations of the matter fields alone) are no more symmetries of this theory than they are of the globally phase invariant theory of free particles. Neither an arbitrary coordinate transformation in General Relativity, nor a local gauge transformation in locally gauge invariant relativistic field theory, can bring forces in and out of existence: no generation of gravitational effects, and no changes to the interference pattern.

Automorphisms. Note Quote.

GraphAutormophismGroupExamples-theilmbh

A group automorphism is an isomorphism from a group to itself. If G is a finite multiplicative group, an automorphism of G can be described as a way of rewriting its multiplication table without altering its pattern of repeated elements. For example, the multiplication table of the group of 4th roots of unity G={1,-1,i,-i} can be written as shown above, which means that the map defined by

 1|->1,    -1|->-1,    i|->-i,    -i|->i

is an automorphism of G.

Looking at classical geometry and mechanics, Weyl followed Newton and Helmholtz in considering congruence as the basic relation which lay at the heart of the “art of measuring” by the handling of that “sort of bodies we call rigid”. He explained how the local congruence relations established by the comparison of rigid bodies can be generalized and abstracted to congruences of the whole space. In this respect Weyl followed an empiricist approach to classical physical geometry, based on a theoretical extension of the material practice with rigid bodies and their motions. Even the mathematical abstraction to mappings of the whole space carried the mark of their empirical origin and was restricted to the group of proper congruences (orientation preserving isometries of Euclidean space, generated by the translations and rotations) denoted by him as ∆+. This group seems to express “an intrinsic structure of space itself; a structure stamped by space upon all the inhabitants of space”.

But already on the earlier level of physical knowledge, so Weyl argued, the mathematical automorphisms of space were larger than ∆. Even if one sees “with Newton, in congruence the one and only basic concept of geometry from which all others derive”, the group Γ of automorphisms in the mathematical sense turns out to be constituted by the similarities.

The structural condition for an automorphism C ∈ Γ of classical congruence geometry is that any pair (v1,v2) of congruent geometric configurations is transformed into another pair (v1*,v2*) of congruent configurations (vj* = C(vj), j = 1,2). For evaluating this property Weyl introduced the following diagram:

IMG_20170320_040116_HDR

Because of the condition for automorphisms just mentioned the maps C T C-1 and C-1TC belong to ∆+ whenever T does. By this argument he showed that the mathematical automorphism group Γ is the normalizer of the congruences ∆+ in the group of bijective mappings of Euclidean space.

More generally, it also explains the reason for his characterization of generalized similarities in his analysis of the problem of space in the early 1920s. In 1918 he translated the relationship between physical equivalences as congruences to the mathematical automorphisms as the similarities/normalizer of the congruences from classical geometry to special relativity (Minkowski space) and “localized” them (in the sense of physics), i.e., he transferred the structural relationship to the infinitesimal neighbourhoods of the differentiable manifold characterizing spacetime (in more recent language, to the tangent spaces) and developed what later would be called Weylian manifolds, a generalization of Riemannian geometry. In his discussion of the problem of space he generalized the same relationship even further by allowing any (closed) sub-group of the general linear group as a candidate for characterizing generalized congruences at every point.

Moreover, Weyl argued that the enlargement of the physico-geometrical automorphisms of classical geometry (proper congruences) by the mathematical automorphisms (similarities) sheds light on Kant’s riddle of the “incongruous counterparts”. Weyl presented it as the question: Why are “incongruous counterparts” like the left and right hands intrinsically indiscernible, although they cannot be transformed into another by a proper motion? From his point of view the intrinsic indiscernibility could be characterized by the mathematical automorphisms Γ. Of course, the congruences ∆ including the reflections are part of the latter, ∆ ⊂ Γ; this implies indiscernibility between “left and right” as a special case. In this way Kant’s riddle was solved by a Leibnizian type of argument. Weyl very cautiously indicated a philosophical implication of this observation:

And he (Kant) is inclined to think that only transcendental idealism is able to solve this riddle. No doubt, the meaning of congruence and similarity is founded in spatial intuition. Kant seems to aim at some subtler point. But just this point is one which can be completely clarified by general concepts, namely by subsuming it under the general and typical group-theoretic situation explained before . . . .

Weyl stopped here without discussing the relationship between group theoretical methods and the “subtler point” Kant aimed at more explicitly. But we may read this remark as an indication that he considered his reflections on automorphism groups as a contribution to the transcendental analysis of the conceptual constitution of modern science. In his book on Symmetry, he went a tiny step further. Still with the Weylian restraint regarding the discussion of philosophical principles he stated: “As far as I see all a priori statements in physics have their origin in symmetry” (126).

To prepare for the following, Weyl specified the subgroup ∆o ⊂ ∆ with all those transformations that fix one point (∆o = O(3, R), the orthogonal group in 3 dimensions, R the field of real numbers). In passing he remarked:

In the four-dimensional world the Lorentz group takes the place of the orthogonal group. But here I shall restrict myself to the three-dimensional space, only occasionally pointing to the modifications, the inclusion of time into the four-dimensional world brings about.

Keeping this caveat in mind (restriction to three-dimensional space) Weyl characterized the “group of automorphisms of the physical world”, in the sense of classical physics (including quantum mechanics) by the combination (more technically, the semidirect product ̧) of translations and rotations, while the mathematical automorphisms arise from a normal extension:

– physical automorphisms ∆ ≅ R3 X| ∆o with ∆o ≅ O(3), respectively ∆ ≅ R4 X| ∆o for the Lorentz group ∆o ≅ O(1, 3),

– mathematical automorphisms Γ = R+ X ∆
(R+ the positive real numbers with multiplication).

In Weyl’s view the difference between mathematical and physical automorphisms established a fundamental distinction between mathematical geometry and physics.

Congruence, or physical equivalence, is a geometric concept, the meaning of which refers to the laws of physical phenomena; the congruence group ∆ is essentially the group of physical automorphisms. If we interpret geometry as an abstract science dealing with such relations and such relations only as can be logically defined in terms of the one concept of congruence, then the group of geometric automorphisms is the normalizer of ∆ and hence wider than ∆.

He considered this as a striking argument against what he considered to be the Cartesian program of a reductionist geometrization of physics (physics as the science of res extensa):

According to this conception, Descartes’s program of reducing physics to geometry would involve a vicious circle, and the fact that the group of geometric automorphisms is wider than that of physical automorphisms would show that such a reduction is actually impossible.” 

In this Weyl alluded to an illusion he himself had shared for a short time as a young scientist. After the creation of his gauge geometry in 1918 and the proposal of a geometrically unified field theory of electromagnetism and gravity he believed, for a short while, to have achieved a complete geometrization of physics.

He gave up this illusion in the middle of the 1920s under the impression of the rising quantum mechanics. In his own contribution to the new quantum mechanics groups and their linear representations played a crucial role. In this respect the mathematical automorphisms of geometry and the physical automorphisms “of Nature”, or more precisely the automorphisms of physical systems, moved even further apart, because now the physical automorphism started to take non-geometrical material degrees of freedom into account (phase symmetry of wave functions and, already earlier, the permutation symmetries of n-particle systems).

But already during the 19th century the physical automorphism group had acquired a far deeper aspect than that of the mobility of rigid bodies:

In physics we have to consider not only points but many types of physical quantities such as velocity, force, electromagnetic field strength, etc. . . .

All these quantities can be represented, relative to a Cartesian frame, by sets of numbers such that any orthogonal transformation T performed on the coordinates keeps the basic physical relations, the physical laws, invariant. Weyl accordingly stated:

All the laws of nature are invariant under the transformations thus induced by the group ∆. Thus physical relativity can be completely described by means of a group of transformations of space-points.

By this argumentation Weyl described a deep shift which ocurred in the late 19th century for the understanding of physics. He described it as an extension of the group of physical automorphisms. The laws of physics (“basic relations” in his more abstract terminology above) could no longer be directly characterized by the motion of rigid bodies because the physics of fields, in particular of electric and magnetic fields, had become central. In this context, the motions of material bodies lost their epistemological primary status and the physical automorphisms acquired a more abstract character, although they were still completely characterizable in geometric terms, by the full group of Euclidean isometries. The indistinguishability of left and right, observed already in clear terms by Kant, acquired the status of a physical symmetry in electromagnetism and in crystallography.

Weyl thus insisted that in classical physics the physical automorphisms could be characterized by the group ∆ of Euclidean isometries, larger than the physical congruences (proper motions) ∆+ but smaller than the mathe- matical automorphisms (similarities) Γ.

This view fitted well to insights which Weyl drew from recent developments in quantum physics. He insisted – differently to what he had thought in 1918 – on the consequence that “length is not relative but absolute” (Hs, p. 15). He argued that physical length measurements were no longer dependent on an arbitrary chosen unit, like in Euclidean geometry. An “absolute standard of length” could be fixed by the quantum mechanical laws of the atomic shell:

The atomic constants of charge and mass of the electron atomic constants and Planck’s quantum of action h, which enter the universal field laws of nature, fix an absolute standard of length, that through the wave lengths of spectral lines is made available for practical measurements.

Spinors, Twistors and Ontologies of SpaceTime

f7-large

Penrose’s conception of spacetime based on the complex analysis as well as Manin’s stem from the notions of spaces of spinors and twistors. Manin’s construction is complex space of spinors, which is a base by means of which 3-dimensional Euclidean space of the classical mechanics and 4-dimensional Minkowski’s space can be defined. The similarity to Plato’s world can be seen through the essential issue of the philosophy of nature, the issue of a relationship between a mathematical model described by a physical theory and the world. In contemporary physics, this relationship poses some subtle problems due to the fact that mathematical models themselves are constructions with abstract, intricate and many level structures. That is the case when we take into consideration the relationship between unitary space of spinors and the structure of physical spacetime. Here the relationship is indirect to a large extent. The Euclidean space and Minkowski’s space are the intermediate structures between fundamental mathematical structure — complex space of spinors — and physical spacetime. That the unitary complex space is fundamental means that it allows to define both, the Euclidean and Minkowski’s spaces. On the other hand, the indispensable intermediary role of those classical structures is played through their relation with experiments and measurement, that can be made only in their categories. Here, we find an analogy with Timaeus’ ontology. Plato’s triangles and bodies, geometrical substratum of the world, correspond to deep structure of spacetime — abstract, complex mathematical structure that allows to define models of spacetime of the classical mechanics. The significance of the latter models is not weakened since they describe adequately — to use the expression taken from the domain of linguistics — surface structure of the physical spacetime, as they enable us make concrete measurements, that serve as a base of verification of a physical theory. Therefore, they connect the ideal Plato’s world with the world of phenomena, similarly like in “Timaeus” a description of this surface structure of nature, i. e. concrete events, was made by means of the four elements, the frame of which was the actual geometrical substratum of nature. It is remarkable that Penrose, whose contribution to the examination of complex spaces of spinors and twistors was the most valuable in our times, shares the view of the strong mathematical Platonism concerning ontology as well as epistemology.

Relation: local-global is of great importance not only in ontology, but also in entire science and philosophy. On the one hand, ontology tends to be defined as knowledge concerning the notion of the whole — the notion of global nature, indeed. On the other hand, the contrast: local-global is often used to define and contrast scientific knowledge and philosophy. Such a view is expressed by René Thom, who thinks that the basic feature of a scientific theory is its locality expressed as the possibility to geometrize it. This view is also shared by Maurin, who states that a category of the whole is specifically philosophical, strictly religious. In the domain of the ontology of spacetime the latest mathematical models that use the methods of global analysis on complex manifolds let us obtain important results concerning the connection between local homogeneity of spacetime and its global homogeneity. The former one, well proved by the whole classical physics and through the Noether’s theorem connected with the principles of conservation in the classical mechanics, has purely scientific nature, the latter, on the other hand, left without any justification would be only an arbitrary metaphysical postulate commonly assumed, since it provides “comfortable” universality of physical laws in the whole Universe. And here, contemporary mathematics can give a kind of solution. The crucial significance for a demonstration of the global homogeneity of spacetime resulting from the local homogeneity of spacetime has Penrose’ postulate which defines spacetime as a 2-dimensional complex, i. e. 4-dimensional real, holomorphic manifold. For such manifolds the principle of identity binds. According to this principle, for any two holomorphic or meromorphic functions, if they are identical in optionally small neighbourhood, they are also identical on the whole manifold. Such a geometrical model of spacetime lessens remarkably the arbitrariness of the metaphysical postulate of global homogeneity of spacetime. What follows, is the connection between what is local, so scientific, and what is global, so ontological, — the means that enables this connection is mathematics, strictly speaking, global analysis.